


Fibonacci (Revamped)

by squiggly_squid



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fantasy world au, Lost Love, Mass Effect 3, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, but it gets better, new lore, sad beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 89,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/pseuds/squiggly_squid
Summary: Jana Shepard lost everything when she lost her best friend and husband, Garrus Vakarian, during their assault on the Collector Base. His death took both her strength to fight and will to live, but something strange cause by a prothean obelisk can change that. When she finds herself in a world where men fight with sword and shield against Reapers in terrifying dragon form.





	1. Shattered and Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wafflesrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wafflesrock/gifts).



She and he are whole in the beginning, hunting a rogue Spectre down with nothing but stubbornness and determination driving herself and her band of misfits thrown together by some weird kind of fate. Weighted looks and barely whispered words sit on their tongues, but they never hurtle the wall that their people’s animosity created so many years before during a war they only know by books and others’ hate. Friendship is all they can manage. Anything more is too poisoned by the things they can’t control and her unbending duty to follow the rules of a system that just as quickly turns its back on her to suit its needs.

Then she dies, her death shattering each of them in their own ways. She is reborn as a broken soldier of gears and obligation to the universe and dances at the ends of a monster in a suit’s strings. False smiles and untrustworthy ‘loyalty’ surrounds her until she finds him again, tainted by darkness and scarred by guilt and anger. They are broken, their jagged pieces grinding against each other because of the heady tension of her resurrection and his new faults, but time erodes their edges the longer they are together, the deeper they fall into each other in a time of uncertainty. By the time their pieces find a semblance of fitting in place within one another’s hollow places, they are hurtling towards something neither thinks they will return from.

His body is worn from the pain of failure and betrayal and his soul has darkened from all the bad he’s done in that time before they reunited, but she shoulders his burdens. Her mind is full of uncertainty and an existence that ends in a question, but he proves she’s alive, changed but still herself.

Love carries them, holds its hands on their wounds, and gives them the hope that time will seal their broken pieces together.

When Jana’s husband lies in her arms, his cobalt blood slipping through her fingers like the grains of sand, he says words neither truly believe, his levity falling flat and failing to keep her light of hope aflame. When Garrus dies, he takes her with him, leaving nothing but a husk driven by cybernetics and a failing sense of duty to save something for those who she no longer sees herself caring for.

The lives of hundreds of thousands being snuffed out by her hand roll off of her skin like beads of water against the unforgiving slick of oil. She is numb when the sky darkens over Earth and fill with the booming sounds of inhuman roars. Even the Reapers fail to spark a light of any emotion within her as she looks out and sees them extinguishing the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands, with a single sweep of their all-seeing eye.

The sight of Liara does nothing to her, causes no rush of happiness or hope as the asari assures them of a possible solution. A solution they find they are too late in retrieving when Cerberus manages to steal it away, but not before taking Kaidan’s life. Jana should feel regret that the last she spoke of to the man was to tersely shut him up for questioning a loyalty to her people that they all knew didn’t exist, but not because of the reason he was accusing her of.

She isn’t surprised when she and Liara fail to convince the Council to step from beneath their veils of ignorance and help a dying cause. Still, they send her to a burning Palaven in search of a dead Primarch where she instead finds a man on its moon made more for war than cutthroat, clandestine politics. His stipulation of wanting the krogan before his aid to humanity isn’t something that she can say she didn’t expect, but it does bring with it the chance to meet Wrex now that he claims to have control over a raging species.

Of course, his aid comes with its own costs and no one to fulfill the task but Jana and her crew.

Sur’Kesh is in flames by the time they leave with a sickly, female krogan and Mordin Solus in tow. Mordin has confidence in his skill to accomplish the tall task of curing the Genophage, but Jana merely nods in an understanding of his hope and moves on to the next task thrown upon her with little enthusiasm.

Even if the krogan are cured, she knows there will be no change in a species too full of ignorance and violence to understand how to live.

In the meantime, Jana is sent across the galaxy to fix a mistake she made in a previous life. She doesn’t falter in condemning the rachni when she so long ago tried to save their species. Not even the defeat in the queen’s acceptance moves her as she orders her men to flee. In the end, Grunt’s death means just as little to her as her shuttle flies from the burial grounds of both a species and the best soldiers of another.

Still waiting for the supposed ‘cure,’ she and her men are tasked with a personal mission by the Primarch. She only goes for the sake of a memory of a turian she loved and what he may have wanted, but ultimately, she sacrifices the Primarch’s inexperienced, regretful son as he tries to redeem himself and his men for his mistakes. Placing her own men above the many turians trying to further cool the animosity between turians and the krogan, she leaves the men to a massive explosion made from a bomb of the turians’ own making. It feels like some kind of karma as she stands before the Primarch and lies of his son’s true fate, claiming that his sacrifice was a regrettable inevitability instead of something that could have been prevented had she taken the risk.

The krogan female dies from Mordin’s studies, but he feels he’s successful in creating a cure to the Genophage that’s plagued the krogan for centuries. It’s all for naught, though, when Jana is offered a chance to betray him, Wrex, and the entirety of the krogan species at the promise of aid from the salarian dalatrass. She knows pulling the trigger at an unsuspecting Mordin while his back is turned should make her insides twist, but she feels nothing. She feels the same when Wrex finds out and tries to attack her in retribution, leaving her to goad him into crashing through the Citadel’s thick glass windows in his rage and fall to his death.

Perhaps it’s for the best when she learns that the Citadel has been attacked while she took the Normandy on some wild goose chase for the Alliance. Cerberus had trampled all resistance on the station beneath its fiery paws, devoured the salarian, asari, and turian councilors with its three heads, and set the traitorous Udina at the throne under the guiding hand of the Illusive Man. Any political cohesion that existed was shredded between Cerberus’ jaws and replaced by the oppressive regime that only further served the Reapers while fooling itself of its independence.

Among Eden Prime and Grissom Academy, Cerberus gorges on every settlement in sight and the people that live there. All the while, the Normandy plays a spearhead to a losing battle and the scapegoat for all the failings.

Honestly, Jana feels the hatred she’s given is well deserved. Had she cared, she’d be torturing herself more than the public currently is for her failure at saving as many as she could. The universe burns around her and she can’t even feel the flames or care that her own clothing is catching on fire. All she does is count the days until she no longer wakes from her drunken stupors in the early mornings to find she’s still alone.

She could speed up her journey to the other side where her love lies, but the metallic taste of a gun in her mouth is sour and her cowardice outweighs her hopelessness. There’s always a question of what her suicide will bring her, if it’ll be different than dying at the hand of war, so she waits and curses fate every time a bullet isn’t ‘the one.’

“EDI’s not reading any heat signatures or Reaper forces,” Joker says, his voice cutting Jana from her thoughts as her mind drifts among the stars outside of the Normandy’s windows. “Do you want me to call your ground team?”

“No.” Jana’s gaze shifts to stare at the planet below, the mossy green of its surface peeking through the thick miasma of the ammonia clouds in its atmosphere.

She can’t stand the way everyone sounds to her ears and she acts like she doesn’t notice the stares when she mindlessly stalks the ship late into the night in search of her love that isn’t there. The inflection in everyone’s voice, once they find out the source of the ring around her neck, makes her sick to her stomach and it’s all she can do to walk away from Joker before he can give her that concerned look.

She hates that look no matter whose face it’s on.

“Shepard,” EDI says through the speaker of the CIC as Jana passes and she closes her eyes at the annoying fact that, no matter where on the ship she goes, the damn AI can still talk. “With all due respect, while there may not be any signatures near the drop zone, I advise caution.”

“With all due respect,” Jana says flatly as she steps into the lift, “Shut up and remember who the commander of this ship is.”

_This lifeless, useless ship …. Or is it more a lifeless, useless commander?_

EDI doesn’t press the issue, knowing when to leave Jana to her silence as she rides the lift down to the Docking Bay to prep for her drop. She thinks briefly about going without her armor or helmet and just letting the ammonia fill her lungs and suffocate her, but she’s made a promise to her love because she thinks he’d be one to approve of the sentiment. She’ll stay with the Normandy until it crashes and burns or someone takes away her command.

_Oh, how I’d love to give up command._

“Hey, Commander.” Vega is hesitant, his grin fading as soon as he sees the blank expression on her face and he rubs his neck nervously. “You going down? Want me to suit up?”

“Not this time,” she says as she types in her command to the armor locker and starts to remove her things and strap them on. “I’m going this one alone.”

Cortez steps out from where he’s working on the thrusters, a frown etched deep into his features. “Ma’am, I’d be happy to take you down. Uh,” he says, clearing his throat, “Not that I don’t think you can’t handle the Kodiak, just that I’m worried about you going alone down there in case anything were to happen.”

“There’s nothing down there but an artifact. I’ll contact a team to move it if I have to, but I want the peace and quiet.” She doesn’t care for the look of hurt on either man’s face as she tightens the clasps on her chest plate. “I can handle my own damn self well enough. In fact,” she says, raising her voice as she glances at EDI’s camera situated above the lift’s doors, “EDI, tell everyone to stop treating me like I’m going to break down any minute. And even if I _do,_ I don’t need anyone trying to ‘take care of me’ or ‘worry about me.’” She turns her gaze to Cortez. “Got it?”

“Yes, Shepard.” EDI’s voice sounds more dejected than normal, but Jana’s sure it has more to do with the way Cortez and Vega seem to shrink away from her than the actual AI’s tone.

“Good.” Grabbing her helmet, Jana tucks it under her arm and moves to the weapons locker, sets it down on the bench beside the locker, and starts to go through her weapons, deciding which she’ll take with her planetside.

After a long silence and the two men have moved to hovering around at Vega’s workstation and Jana inspects various weapons and mods, she finally snaps them into place on her armor and picks her helmet back up. “Cortez,” she calls, waiting until he’s visibly stood straighter from his position with Vega trying to seem unassuming and unintrusive, “Is the shuttle ready to drop?”

If there’s one thing that the man knows anything about, it’s his shuttles. He tried once to share some wisdom and comfort about losing a loved one, explaining that he also lost a husband not too long ago, but she quickly dismissed him. Her wounds are too raw to want to bring up with a man who obviously only wants to talk to her as a way to heal her instead of sharing her pain. Just the look on his face told her all she needed to know about him trying to overlook his own loss by ignoring it in hopes of fixing hers.

She doesn’t want someone to fix her when they won’t even acknowledge they need to be fixed too.

Cortez jogs up to her side, matching her pace as she heads for the shuttle. “Yes, ma’am. Are you sure you want to go alone?”

“Very.” Climbing into the open shuttle, Jana turns back to give him one more stern look. “I’ll comm if there are any issues, but other than emergencies, radio silence.” She hits the command to lower the shuttle hatch. “Let everyone know.”

He barely hears his soft, ‘Yes ma’am’ before the shuttle’s hatch locks into place as she moves to the cockpit. As she sets her helmet in the co-pilot’s seat, the shuttle’s interface comes to life with the brilliant glow of colors from its console, the cockpit and shuttle otherwise dark. Her hands settle over the holographic controls as the Cargo Bay’s doors open to leave nothing but the Normandy’s kinetic barriers and the shuttle itself to keep her from feeling the suffocating cold that killed her once before.

_Things seemed so much easier then … when I was frantically flailing to stifle the air escaping my suit and will the empty vacuum of space to miraculously have a bit of oxygen in its vastness that I could breathe._

Sighing, Jana launches the shuttle, propelling it through the shimmering barrier protecting her crew from the same fate and heading towards Talis Fia’s atmosphere.

She has to give Cortez credit for his diligent work on the shuttle. Thanks to his many modifications and studious upkeep, she barely feels the force of breaking through the atmosphere. Normal Kodiaks have a bad reputation for bucking hard from the entry into any planet’s atmosphere, but this is almost soothing, which is good because Jana hates to admit she’s actually quite afraid of heights.

Space, she can handle because she doesn’t have that feeling of gravity reminding her of what-ifs should she fall, crashing to the ground, but actually going to ground is so much different. Planes and all planetside transport leaves a thick weight in her stomach and she finds herself holding her breath even now as she watches the shuttle’s readings dance about as it automatically works to adjust itself for a gradual descent. She finally releases it when the thrusters’ readings level out to a speed she’s more comfortable approaching the surface at and the subtle, ever so slightly there tremble of the shuttle settles. She may not be Cortez, who can manage an entry like he was simply driving a skycar barely raised off the ground, but she can rest easy knowing she at least has enough control to drop on a planet without his presence hovering over her shoulder.

Jana sits back in her seat, letting the VI pilot towards the dig site of the prothean obelisk she’s after, closing her eyes. When volus ambassador spoke of the possibility of someone being able to use the knowledge the obelisk may hold, the additional prospect of the trip giving her an unintended chance at some time alone and away from the Normandy and war effort made her decision for her. She can take this exploration and retrieval mission as a chance to catch her breath and simply let her mind drift without any intrusion.

Even though she’s hollow and her facade is cracked, no longer affected by the war and inevitable end of civilization, she has a small flicker of guilt reminding her that there are still a handful of people deserving of her attempts. She can go through the motions - live with the failures until those few no longer need or want her - if it means that they have even a small bit of hope that what they’re doing in this fight might pay off.

_Who knows? Maybe I can lengthen the fight long enough for people to put their things in order, settle any grievances, and find comfort in their loved ones instead of simply being snuffed out before any realization sets in …._

She’s jerked out of her thoughts by a clatter in the back of the shuttle’s cargo hold and she sighs, rubbing her thumb and forefinger above her brows. She wants peace, but all she gets is someone sneaking into the shuttle under a false sense of concern for her and her sanity.

“I know you’re back there,” she says, giving a last glance at the console to make sure the VI has control of the descent before shifting in her seat to look back into the darkened reaches of the shuttle. “I thought I made it pretty damn clear I didn’t want anyone coming along.”

A few more clanks of something metal, yet small, against the shuttle’s floor fill the tense silence before someone steps out from behind the barrier between the personnel area and actual cargo compartment. Immediately, she recognizes the shadow as the person steps into the low light and Jana’s expression softens, mask showing its cracks and chips to the only one she feels she can trust.

“Tali,” she says, frowning in confusion. “What are you doing in the Kodiak?”

“I had a … program running … down in engineering.” The hesitance in her voice gives Jana a clue as to what that programming might be for …

_Now that he’s not here to calibrate them himself …._

Tali’s hands fidget before she motions a thumb over her shoulder. “So I thought I could come down here and work on the automated ‘sink storage so it has a better reading of its remaining supply.” She shifts on her feet, avoiding any kind of eye contact with Jana. “I’ve noticed it’s been off by a couple of heat sinks and I just thought ….”

“It’s fine,” Jana says, tone softer than she’s been using on the rest of the crew as she adjusts herself back in the pilot’s seat. “Thanks for keeping it accurate. Never know ….”

“Jana.” Tali’s the only one - _alive_ … - who can call her that, and with a note of concern in her voice as well. She steps into the cockpit but doesn’t sit. She simply takes Jana’s helmet and holds it between her hands, tilting and turning it as if to examine the pockmarks and large patches of missing paint Jana hasn’t felt the need repaint to keep it pristine.

_It works, so why bother looking pretty?_

Sighing because she knows basically what Tali’s going to say, Jana shakes her head and glances at her friend. No, not her friend. Her _sister_ basically, one she’s never had and more family than her own mother, Hannah.

“I know what you’re going to say-”

“But I’m still going to say it,” Tali interrupts, stroking her thumb over the visor of the helmet before finally looking to Jana. “I care about you … and I’m worried.”

Scoffing, Jana crosses her arms as the shuttle lifts its nose to align it with the thrusters to begin its landing. Everyone says the same thing, that they care and they worry.

Glancing at Tali tells a different story than the one Jana’s been seeing, though. She can’t see her friend’s face, exactly, but she can tell from the focused look in her eyes and her lowered shoulders that the words are true, the sentiment fully felt. Tali never looked at her with sympathy after she lost Garrus, but with complete empathy.

Perhaps it’s because Tali lost not only one friend, but two. Not just any friends, but those she considered her own family, who she admitted to feeling so connected to that she’d expose herself to sickness just to experience the closeness of linking suits with them. Jana and Garrus were there for her when they found her father, when they lied to keep his actions secret and not destroy his place of honor in the quarians’ annals, and when they later grieved for not just a lost father, but for the loss of what could have been in Tali’s life.

_She was the only one to seek me out after. Not because she had empty platitudes, but because she wanted to get drunk, help me find a dark, safe place, and cry until our entire bodies felt the physical pain to match our emotional ones._

Admitting to herself that she really does want to do good by her friend, to hold her pieces together long enough to give her a fighting chance, Jana looks out of the window to a darkened dig site, void of any life besides the two of them. The air is thick and rolls along the ground, but it’s the flicker of lighting in the dense clouds overhead that draw her attention as they bolt from cloud to cloud in a brilliant flash. She can see them spread across the sky with their deadly and deceptively delicate looking fingers. If the sky could live, the lightning would be coming to life with the beat of its heart that can be heard seconds later as loud, booming thunder.

“I know you’re worried,” she finally says, closing her eyes. “But I really don’t care.” She pauses, feeling the hurt radiating off her friend even without needing to see her face. “I can’t, Tali …. I try, but I can’t.”

Where she’d hear most say, ‘He wouldn’t want you to give up,’ she instead hears the gentle tap of Tali’s hand coming to rest on her armored shoulder.

“I just ….” Jana’s voice falters and she swallows heavily, images of a happier time dancing in the darkness behind her closed eyelids. Her hands fist on her lap and she can hear her gloves creak. “I don’t know how to keep going …. I hate it when I wake up every morning because I know I’m still alive ….”

Without giving Tali a chance to speak, Jana opens her eyes and stands. She needs to move, even if it’s just the short distance within the shuttle. Tali doesn’t get in her way as she paces, but does watch Jana carefully, as if waiting for the moment she needs to catch the pieces when she finally crumbles. She almost moves closer when Jana suddenly stops, but lets Jana have space as she drops her head into her hands and taking a single, heaving breath.

“I would give anything to have him back,” she says into her hands, not sure if Tali’s heard her. “And I know I should be ashamed of that … of being willing to throw everyone else’s lives away just for him, for my selfish wish … but ….” She lifts her gaze to Tali only steps away. “But I don’t care about anyone else ….”

A lesser person would flinch from the very realization of meaning so little to someone as close to them as she and Tali are, but Tali doesn’t.

_Because she understands …._

Instead, Tali sets Jana’s helmet down and moves closer, wrapping her arms around Jana even as she drops her head in her hands once again. She hums something obviously musical, but alien, as Jana’s dam breaks, her last barrier shattering under the pressure, and sobs in her friend’s arms. Tali doesn’t speak a word, only hums her soothing song, but her voice wavers in her own sadness and it only further weighs down on Jana. Both women slip to the floor of the shuttle, in each other’s arms as tears of distress, regret, pain, and hopelessness fall from their eyes.

“I just don’t have it in me anymore ….” Jana’s breath is shaky as she rests her head on Tali’s shoulder and Tali does the same, though Jana’s sure her armor makes it difficult. “I _know_ what everyone’s thinking … ‘this isn’t what he’d want,’” she says with a mocking whine to her voice, not yet being told those words, but hearing them behind everyone’s sympathies. “Fuck what he’d want …. He’d want to be alive, is what he’d want ….”

“I know.” Tali sits back enough to cup Jana’s face so they lock gazes. “You don’t have to be Commander Shepard anymore if you don’t want.”

Frowning in confusion, Jana tilts her head slightly. “I can’t just give up …. What about you-”

“I can keep going,” Tali interrupts, finally releasing Jana’s face once she figures she has the other woman’s attention. She takes Jana’s hands in hers and squeezes them. “I’m a grown quarian …. And I have a shotgun.”

The light tone to Tali’s attempt at levity startles a huff of laughter from Jana and she dips her head, shifting her hands to give Tali’s a squeeze in return. “Yeah … I guess you do ….”

A sudden flash of light brightens the shuttle with a blinding light and deep bellow of thunder that feels like it shakes the shuttle - which it might have - gives Jana the last boost she needs to tuck this away for later and remind her that it’d be best if they at least find the obelisk before the obviously heavy storm hits.

“I guess that means we’re heading out, trying to get to that obelisk before we get caught in the worst of it,” she says as she uses one of the seats as leverage to get to her feet. She offers a hand to Tali and tries to smile when she gives Jana’s hand a tight squeeze once she’s standing and just before releasing her.

“Yeah ….” Tali turns to the hatch’s controls and waits for Jana to get her helmet on and sealed, giving the go ahead with a nod. “I want to send out Chiktikka to scan the area …. You know, just in case.”

Jana nods as the hatch swings open with a loud grinding of its metal hydraulics. “Good idea. ‘Complacency breeds disaster.’”

Tali’s drone flickers to life before taking off quickly, its glow illuminating the haze as it passes. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I don’t know,” Jana lies, knowing full well it’s something she drilled into her own head those six months on Earth with nothing to do but stand at attention as she was condemned for following orders that were never officially existed. “Come on.”

Closing the hatch behind them to keep the amount of ammonia from seeping into it to a minimum, Jana reaches over her shoulder for her assault rifle and takes it in hand. She jerks her chin towards the dim light of Tali’s drone when their eyes meet and silently motions for Tali to walk ahead of her. With the haze as thick as it is, it’s safer for Tali to use Chiktikka’s scans of the ground instead of blinding following the light it emits and Jana will take up the rear, sticking close enough to Tali to defend the quarian as she walks with most of her attention on her omni-tool and its readings.

“It isn’t too far,” Tali says, glancing up ahead before nodding and pointing, but at a slight decline. “There’s a small crater where they’ve been digging, but my readings say it’s there.”

“Sounds good.” Jana squints her eyes, trying to see if she can see any sign of the obelisk through the dense haze. “Can your readings tell if it’s prothean?”

Tali hums, stopping suddenly as she taps at her tool. Jana takes the moment to step beside her friend and look around, noticing that the fog seems thicker ahead and she can’t even catch the sparse glimpses of ground that peek through the shifting haze. It makes her think that perhaps they’ve reached the edge of whatever decline in the ground Tali’s readings are picking up on.

Suddenly, the bright orb of Tali’s drone slices through the haze, moving upwards towards them to prove that, sure enough, they stand at the edge of a downward angle. It pierces the haze well enough to give them a look of the ground and Jana is at least relieved to see that the slope isn’t as drastic as she was fearing, so not being able to see their feet shouldn’t hinder their progression too much if they remain cautious. Perhaps the denseness of the fog is affected by the obelisk in some way.

“Chiktikka can lead us through all this fog.” Tali stands beside her glowing drone, closing her tool to exchange it for her shotgun. It seems neither of them truly like walking into the unknown without at least something at hand to give them the feel of control.

Jana simply nods and Chiktikka begins to move, slower so the two women can keep up with its pace despite their having to adjust to trekking down the decline. There’s a sense of urgency with the rumbling thunder above and beginnings of some solitary sprinkles of rain, but they have to take it carefully to limit any possible injury. The last thing Jana needs is for one of them to break an ankle trying to run an errand for Hackett so he can try and use the obelisk for his doomed Crucible project somehow.

Jana’s boots skid a bit on some smaller rocks and she hears Tali curse when something gives under her own foot, but they manage to shift their bodies to keep from tumbling, tilting so that they lean into it with their sides instead of taking a frontal approach. Without looking down, Jana can begin to tell the shift in the ground beneath her feet by the sounds and growing firmness of whatever layer of hard material encased the prothean obelisk.

“It should be right-” Tali’s voice cuts off as she gasps and waves at the fog in front of her mask. “I see it!”

Holstering her rifle back onto her back, Jana steps down onto ground that seems to finally level out and begins to walk towards the unnaturally straight shadow in the fog. Tali is right behind her, obviously still wary of prothean artifacts after all the time they’ve been together and everything they saw on Ilos. Gradually, the haze thins enough to reveal what as to be the obelisk.

Standing taller than the beacon on Eden Prime, it has four sides that gradually come together until they form a small pyramid at the top with its point above its exact center. Although it still needs some cleaning off from the few caked on pieces of mud here and there, Jana recognizes the shimmery, almost black of its surface. The shimmering symbols and - she guesses - prothean script along its surface seem different though and she almost lets her curiosity get the better of her and reaches out to touch it, but stops herself.

_I remember the last time I messed with anything prothean …. And its shining means it’s active._

“Radio the Normandy and tell them to get Liara on the comm,” Jana says, turning to Tali and tilting her head towards the obelisk. “This thing is active and could be dangerous.” She scoffs and her gaze drifts back to it. “They always seem to be.”

A bright flash of light surrounds them and Jana lifts a hand to cover her eyes, not hearing anything if Tali has spoken. The thunder roars, louder than even the Reapers and it makes her ears ring and the ground shakes with such force she swears she can feel it breaking apart beneath her feet.

She knows she should be afraid of the sudden weightlessness and blinding, white light surrounding her or the odd warmth seeping beneath her armor, but all she can think of is how thankful she is that it’s finally happened. She just hopes Tali wasn’t caught in it with her, though.

Tali deserves more than a death possibly brought on by Jana’s intense will for it all to end.

_“Jana ….”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


	2. Where Are We?

**Chapter 2: Where Are We?**

" _Jana_  …."

_It's a voice. Not cold from death, but as vibrant and alive as the day they met, as the day she heard him say 'yes.'_

_The soothing scents of worn leather, gun oil, and heated metal surround her in a way she hasn't experienced in what seems like a lifetime. She feels that, for the first time in a long time, her blood begins to flow once more, bringing life to a dead and broken heart as his presence wraps itself around her like a warm, weighted blanket._

_Opening her eyes, her mouth falls open in wonder at the sight that stands before her, a visual embodiment of hope and love. Tears burn at her eyes as her bottom lip trembles, her body frozen in the presence of her lost love, seemingly freer now that he no longer wears the burden of the faults in his life._

" _Garrus …" she whispers, stumbling to take a step towards him as she lifts a hand, needing to touch him but hesitant to shatter the mirage if it's nothing more than the last vestiges of a dying mind._

_He smiles - actually smiles - and his rumbling subvocals sound so real as he closes the distance between them and breaks the tension of what-ifs by taking her hand in his. "Jana."_

_His purring tone caresses her skin as she finally lets the tears fall and rushes into his arms. He isn't in armor, and she knows that should be proof enough that this isn't real, but his clothes are so warm from his body heat and soft against her cheek as she presses it against his chest. She can feel the vibrations of his soothing subvocals and she merely clings to him for a moment until she can no longer stay silent, the words spilling from her lips in a flood._

" _I'm so sorry, Garrus. I'm so sorry …. I love you …. I miss you. I miss you so much …. I can't do this. I can't …."_

_He steps back, hands sliding down her arms to take hold of her own. He smiles, though it's so sad, and she finally has a chance to look him over through her tears._

_No longer wearing that damned bandage, the right side of his face is instead covered in ropey scars. It's a stark reminder of the pain he's been through, but they don't physically seem to bother him as he cups her hands to his face and nuzzles her palms, turning his head to kiss each one._

" _It's okay," he says softly, thumbs stroking her wrists as he holds her hands to his face a moment before lowering them but still keeping them in his grasp. "You don't need to apologize …. For any of it."_

_The realization that he could see her failing so miserably from the afterlife makes her duck her head in shame, but he stops her with a knuckle under her chin and press of his forehead to hers. They stand like this, hand in hand as she closes her eyes to soak in the sensation of his touch after so long. She can still feel her own life weighing on her shoulders, but he seems so much lighter like this, in whatever state he exists in now._

_He presses his chin on the top of her head and pulls her in, a hand cupping her head and the other splayed across her back. Her hands fist into his shirt as she fills her lungs with his scent, lets her mind take in the very sounds of his breathing and subvocals and the weight of his touch. She wishes he'd touch her where she could feel the rough calluses on his ungloved hands, but he doesn't move, simply holding her against him as close as their bodies will allow._

" _Garrus," she finally says, the need to know why he never brought up something she only found out about after his death nagging at her very soul, "Why didn't you …." She swallows and takes a step back, frowning up at him at the hurt she still feels since finding out about a supposed turian custom after it was too late to ever perform. "Why didn't you mark me? Leave a scar so I could remember you by?"_

_Running a strand of her red hair around a finger, he tilts his head with a saddened smile before cupping her cheek. "You don't remember me by the ring I gave you?"_

_Eyes widening, she scrambles to fetch the chain her ring hangs from as a constant reminder of their union. "Of course I do! I never take it off!"_

_She holds it up for him to see and he purrs with a soft smile as he hooks a finger under the chain to hold the ring up to look at it. "I made sure it had parts of both of us in it," he says before giving it slack so she can gaze at it. "Metal from Palaven and a pearl from Earth."_

_The ring is simplistic, a simple gold metal woven around a large pearl in the perfect size for her finger. She didn't initially understand the reason for a pearl until he explained the value his people put on things from the oceans, their natural fear of the water making anything worth the risk valuable in their eyes. He said it was a piece made of parts from both of them, but when she looks at it, all she sees is him and his apparent opinion of her worth in his eyes._

" _I love it. I will always love it …. I just …." Frowning, she looks over his face, trying to understand his thoughts that night._

_He hums, the sound almost sad as he caresses down her cheek and stops with his hand over the crook of her neck and shoulder - where a scar of his bite should be. "This is for someone who can love you in all the ways I never would've been able to."_

_Jana feels the sharp sting of hurt in her chest as she blinks away more tears, but when she opens her mouth to speak, to ask just what the hell that's supposed to me, he shifts his hand back to her cheek and strokes his thumb across her lips._

" _Let someone love you, Jana. And let yourself love again." A deep thrum echoes from his chest as he leans down and presses his mouth plates to her forehead, voice soft, yet warm with emotion. "I would've never been the turian you deserve, but there's someone out there who can be, who can make you happy in all the ways I would never have been able to. He's the one who deserves to leave a permanent mark of his devotion on your skin."_

_She jerks back to look into his eyes, a deep scowl etched into her features at the seeming betrayal in his words. What she feels for him is special and she can't stand to hear his opinions on how little he would have been able to do for her had they had the chance. "Don't talk like that, dammit," she hisses, clenching her jaw against the pain. "I love you. I'll always love you-"_

" _I know," he interrupts, smiling as he covers her hand gripped tightly around her ring. "Keep this in memory of me, but don't let it be an anchor. Go out there and live, and love …." Purring, he presses his forehead to hers before giving her lips a soft press of his mouth plates. "I'll be right here when you need me."_

" _I need you now," she whispers, eyes closing as she tries to lift on her toes to catch him for another kiss, a deeper one to feed that hunger for his love._

"Jana …."

Clenching her eyes shut hard enough to see blossoms of colors behind her eyelids, Jana groans at the full body ache that pounds with the beating of her heart. Her ears ring and her skin is on fire as if whatever blinding light engulfed her has set her ablaze, ripped her apart, and then slammed her back together. The pain of waking up on the operating table with Miranda yelling at her through the intercom doesn't even match up to what she's feeling.

"Jana," a familiar voice says, urgency in its tone as the owner shakes her lightly by her shoulder. "Are you okay? _Keelah_ , please be okay …."

"'M 'kay." Jana's voice is hoarse and she has to cough to clear her throat, hoping it'll also help to clear her head. She cracks her eyes open and sees Tali hovering above her, the dark sky behind her reminding Jana of the very possible fact that her condition might have been the result of being struck by lightning.

_My luck is I wouldn't actually die from it …._

"I'm okay," she tries again, clawing her way through the haze in her mind as she forces her stiff limbs to push herself into a sitting position. "What happened?"

"I don't know. There was a … like an explosion …. When I woke up …" Tali says, pausing to look around and Jana finally gets the chance to take in their surroundings.

"What the hell …."

The first thing she notices is the lack of sickly green of Talis Fia, from the ground and thick smog crawling across it to the very clouds above. Instead, there is an expanse of bright white snow scattered across large hills made of dark stone and rich earth, the occasional sprout of winter foliage peeking through in small patches of color. Mountains rise up in the distance beneath a sky darkened by the thundering clouds of a storm that's in that state of just before its first peppering of rain. Gaze drifting over their immediate surroundings, she sees an obelisk much like the one on Talis Fia, only clean and pristine.

"Come on, you _bosh'tet_."

Glancing at Tali trying to activate her omni-tool, Jana sees a group of people running up on their position behind her, coming from the direction of what looks like a stone structure. She can't believe she's thinking it, but her initial thought is that they've somehow found themselves on the set of a movie filming some kind of ancient medieval film. All three of the people - two humans and an asari - are approaching fast and Jana has only a moment to exchange a glance with Tali before they both jump to their feet and grab at their weapons.

"Hold it right there!" Jana shouts, sighting down her assault rifle with a scowl at the four as they come to a grinding halt. They don't raise their hands, though, and instead glance at each other, looks of confusion clear on their faces. When their eyes all settle on one man, she comes to the conclusion that he's their leader of sorts. "Raise your hands and explain what the hell's going on here."

With her adrenaline evening out and the pounding in her head dulls enough for her to truly think, Jana blinks rapidly as she takes in the group, shock quickly overtaking her. Although she doesn't recognize the man in the center of the four, she  _does_ know the other two, but they shouldn't be here, standing right in front of her.

 _Liara and … and_ _ **Ashley**_  … _._

Liara, she could possibly see involved in some sort of ruse or even a hallucination, but Ashley shouldn't be here. Ever since dying, Jana hasn't had a nightmare of the woman she left to die on Virmire, her mind finally coming to terms with the loss and ruthless calculus of the order in light of even worse horrors. Part of her even feels like she saved Ashley from the Collectors when she had met Kaidan on Horizon, and ultimately watched as he was brutally murdered a year later.

Dying in a sudden flash from a bomb seems so much better than having their head slammed against a shuttle until unconsciousness finally saved them from the agony.

"What …." Jana's voice is soft as she adjusts her grip on her rifle, fidgeting a step as she throws a quick glance at Tali. "Okay …" she tries again before swallowing and giving her head a slight shake. "Okay, just what the  _fuck_  is going on here? Liara? You have two seconds to explain."

Again, the two she recognizes turn to the man she doesn't and he's the first to slowly raise his hands, though he doesn't seem to understand the reason. His actual, metal armor clinks softly as he moves and the golden bird spread across his torso armor catches even the slightest bit of light like some kind of mystical bird about to take flight from his chest.

"My name is Jon Shepard," he says, voice firm, yet gentle as he tries to diffuse the situation. "I'm not quite sure what's going on, but I can promise you that we can explain as best we can … but right now we need to get past. The situation is dire and someone may be getting away with some very valuable information as we-"

A loud scraping of something that sounds like stones sliding against each other catches all of their attention and Jon's expression hardens as he glances over to this armored Ashley before moving to Liara in some kind of either white and black robe - or dress - with a very light version of armor on her upper body and arms. Jon's eyes take in Jana and Tali once more before he speaks to his men.

"Liara and Ashlin, take each side and see what that noise was." Dropping his arms, his gaze moves over Jana and Tali, examining them closely. "I don't know who you are or where your loyalties lie, but if it's with Cerberus-"

"I don't work for Cerberus," Jana says, her tone terse at yet one more person trying to accuse her of working with the damn terrorists. She quickly watches Liara and Ashley -  _why the hell did he call her something else? A nickname I don't know about maybe?_  - before flexing her hand to lay her finger on her trigger. "Liara …." The asari pauses at her words before Jana speaks again, sights still on Jon, their 'leader,' should anyone try anything, "I told you to explain yourselves."

"I don't …."

"I don't think Liara is who you think she is," Jon says and looks up at the obelisk behind Jana before back to her. "Please … put the crossbows down …."

Jana'e eyebrows raise in surprise as she fumbles at the absolutely absurd statement, but doesn't get a chance to speak when she hears that scraping once more, this time much louder to the point she can pinpoint it coming from behind her and Tali. She spins to take in the source just in time to catch a  _woman_  jumping from where she was obviously clinging to and hiding on the other side of the obelisk. The woman - who looks a lot like the android that killed Kaidan and took off with the information from the Mars Archives - flings herself towards 'Ashlin,' toppling the much taller woman to the ground before she can draw her …  _sword_?

"Ash!" Jon shouts as he moves fast, rushing past Jana and Tali as they draw his own 'weapons,' a golden sword and a shield with a sun design made of metal inlaid in its surface.

The woman claws with fingers where the skin seems to be peeling back to show some kind of stone and uses her fists to smash down against Ashlin's charcoal armor, leaving large dents in the actual metal over her chest as Ashlin struggles to throw her off. Something about the attack makes Jana believe the attacker is just as inhuman as the one she tried to stop on Mars before it killed Kaidan, but instead of metal, it seems to be some kind of rock or similarly earthen material.

Without further question of the situation - that can come later - she raises her rifle and pulls the trigger. If these people look like Ashlin and Liara despite the presence of this unknown 'Jon,' then Jana isn't going to stand by and watch one of them be murdered when she at least has the chance to help.

Only, when she pulls the trigger, nothing happens. Instead of giving that slight jerk in her hands as it fires heated pieces of the metal, her assault rifle doesn't do anything. She hears the click of her trigger, but her weapon doesn't even give that small whirring of something being wrong in its mechanisms, whether from lack of maintenance or damage, and she scowls at the stupid thing. The sound of Tali's soft cursing at her own weapon malfunctioning only urges Jana on as she drops her assault rifle to take her pistol off her hip and try the same.

Sighting down between the two strangers as they try to pry the inhuman thing from Ashlin, Jana pulls the trigger once more.

Again, nothing happens and she growls, clenching her jaw as she pulls the trigger three more times.

"Fuck!"

"Coming through!"

A loud yell and pounding against the ground gives Jana just enough warning to move, instinct kicking in. Just as she and Tali jump out of the way, her mouth falls open in surprise at the sight of a  _horse_  charging past. Even more shocking is that it's  _Vega_ \- or, as she's come to find in this situation, someone like him - riding the massive horse as it runs past and rams into the creature attacking Ashlin just as it rises high enough off of Ashlin to probably launch a more devastating attack.

The horse crashes into the creature, thankfully stepping over Ashlin's body as it throws the attacker. The woman that clearly isn't human crashes into the obelisk with a loud thud but Vega's horse keeps running, turning around a distance away to most likely take a position to charge once more. Vega too is in armor definitely not made to suit the needs Jana's can - which doesn't seem to be worth much given how guns appear to be a complete mystery to these people while hers and Tali's own don't work - and he pulls a giant hammer large enough to be meant to be wielded by both hands from his back.

The thing that had been attacking Ashlin stands and Jana finally gets a good look at it, its body made of  _rock_  beneath the tattered clothes and 'skin.' A faint glow emanates from what looks like natural cracking not from any possible damage the toss had done as well as something carved into its body.

Jon, his sword actually glowing at the handle with a bright, white light, closes in on the figure. He blocks a powerful punch of its hands with his shield before retaliating with a swing of his sword against its shoulder. Liara draws a staff from where it sits on her back, it's head shaped like a beautiful flower that glows as well as she twirls it before swinging it towards the fight and the creature stumbles, giving Jon a opening to bring his sword down heavily against its neck.

Tali grabs Jana's elbow to get her attention. "My omni-tool isn't working …. And they aren't even making a dent on that thing."

Jana nods, seeing Tali's panic in her eyes, and feels around her person for something that might be useful in this place. If their guns and omni-tools don't work, then there doesn't seem like much else would. That is until Jana finds her grenades.

"Stand back," she tells Tali as she starts to rush ahead to close the distance between herself and the others, trying to get close enough to get their attention. "Get away from it!" she calls out, hoping to be heard from the heavy thumping of Vega's horse as it closes in. "I can take it down!"

_If this damn thing isn't a dud like all my other stuff …._

Liara immediately hears, closer to Jana than the others, and her eyes widen at the grenade in Jana's hand, clearly picking up on its danger even if she may not recognize it for what it is. She too calls Jon to break away from the creature and he takes only a moment in between loud crashes of his weapons against his opponent's solid body before he glances their way during a block of his shield.

"Get away from that thing!" Jana holds up the grenade for him to see before pointing towards Vega quickly closing in. "He'll drop it and I can finish it off!"

Jon doesn't hesitate, nodding his apparent understanding as he uses his shield to shove the creature and throw it off balance. He jumps away from it just as Vega rams into it with his horse just before swinging his hammer down to completely down it. Jana waits just long enough for Jon and Vega's horse to clear the way before throwing her grenade, hitting the thing just as it's standing to charge again.

The group seems to hold their breath for the few seconds of the grenade's fuse before it explodes with a loud boom, sending small rocks and dirt into the air and immediately melting the snow gathered around the creature's feet. Jana feels a surge of pride and relief that at least something of her equipment works but still feels the tension in her bones as she waits to see if that thing made of rock comes charging through the clearing smoke. The others also seem to share her anxiety as Jon visibly rolls his shoulders in anticipation, but they don't hear anything from the creature's direction besides the soft plopping of stones as they fall back to the ground.

When the air finally clears, the inhuman thing lies in a small crater from the grenade, only small patches of 'skin' and clothes clinging to its body. It no longer glows, so perhaps the light meant some kind of life, but Jana doesn't have a chance to question it before Jon is looking to her and giving a nod of clear thanks.

"Liara," Jon says as he sheaths his sword and latches his shield to his back. "Get the horses. Jameson …." He pauses to let the bigger man with armor that has bear shaped helmet and dark, thick fur around his shoulders guide his horse closer. "Get off and help us with this … thing …."

Jon leaves off the rest as he turns back to the obelisk and quickly begins to climb the slight incline to where Ashlin still lies motionless. Jana follows, not sure what she's to do in this situation, but knowing that she can at least offer aid to a fallen … soldier.

"I have some supplies that can help," she says to the deeply concerned man as he kneels beside Ashlin and lays a hand on her shoulder.

Dropping to his side, she fetches a pack of medi-gel from her suit's supply and breaks the distributor to access the anesthetic. She can't use the clotting agent without the ultrasonic tool that would be able to disconnect it from the wound, but thankfully medi-gel is packaged as a two-part salve that's mixed as it's administered but remains separated before any kind of use.

"Here …." She uses her teeth to pull off a glove and shoves Jon's hands out of the way so she can spread anesthetic on the open wounds on Ashlin's face.

Jon busies himself with getting off the heavily dented armor on Ashlin's chest and torso before he stops to question once Jana finishes tending to the woman's wounds as best as she can. "What is that? …. Are you a healer?"

"What? No …." Jana slips what's left of her medi-gel back into her suit's medi-gel storage before helping him start to lift Ashlin, taking her legs as he shifts his hands under Ashlin's shoulders. Tali, still by Jana's side through this entire confusing situation, grabs what armor Jon's removed without hesitation and follows closely. "I'm not a healer …. It's … it's something to help clean the wounds until you can get her to a doctor …."

Jon nods once as he leads them towards where Jameson and Liara have gathered up the horses.

"We need to hurry." Liara slides her staff into a loop on what must be her horse's saddle and rushes to Jon's side, checking Ashlin for any sign of life with her bare hands. "Cerberus' Hounds have caught up with us …. I could see them gathering at Areis."

Confused, Jana jerks her head to get someone's attention because her hands are still under Ashlin's legs. "Wait a minute …. No one has told me a damn thing about what's going on …. I know Cerberus, but Hounds? Who're they?"

Jon initially ignores her as he shifts Ashlin's weight in his hands to wave Jameson down from his horse, but Liara answers for him as the bigger man takes Ashlin's legs from Jana. "Cerberus is a very dangerous mercenary company …. That thing," she says, motioning the rock figure that's now draped across another of the horses' backs, "was made by them and was going to escape with valuable information that might help us defeat the Reapers."

"Ma'am," Jon interrupts, stepping back from where he and Jameson have positioned Ashlin so that Jameson can hold her against his chest as he sits in the saddle. "I understand you're just as confused as we are about … well, you two." Tying the reins of the horse with the stone creature on its back to a large, white horse, he glances towards the castle before turning to Jana. "There's a war going on and I'm afraid you've found yourself in it. I promise you that we will try to get to the bottom of you two and where you came from, but right now, we desperately need to get out of here before the Hounds have given up searching Areis and come looking for us here." His brows draw down in concern and he motions the four horses. "We can make it if we hurry …. Come with us and I'll get you to safety … and maybe some answers."

Taking a deep breath, Jana glances to Tali and swallows. What choice do they have? These people look and sound like the people she knows, but they are obviously very different. Something tells her this isn't all just some ruse - that idea fizzled up in the instant of Ashlin's attack - but she can't quite come up with any real explanation for what's going on. Could she just be unconscious and having a very vivid, stress-induced dream? Is this the last she thinks of as she's dying from being electrocuted back on Talis Fai?

Does she really want to find out what will happen to her if she and Tali are left behind to be found by Cerberus?

"Alright," she says, making sure to hold Tali's gaze as she makes a decision for them both. "I don't know what's going on, but I know Cerberus." She turns to Jon. "We'd rather not face them without the use of our weapons."

Jon's frown relaxes slightly and he gives a seemingly relieved smile. "Good …. Liara will strap Ashlin's armor to her horse." After both Jana and Tali nod and Tali silently moves to help Liara pack the damaged armor, Jon speaks again with more urgency. "Can either of you ride a horse?"

Jana scoffs, chuckling nervously as she looks over the massive animals. "We don't even have horses where we come from."

That gets her a look of utter shock as he blinks, but he recovers quickly at the sound of rolling thunder and motions the white horse. "I can have one of you with me and Liara can take the other." He goes to his horse and looks between Jana and Tali, gaze stopping on Tali. "I hope it's alright if you ride with me." Giving Jana a polite, apologetic smile, he says, "Your armor and mine together will make it difficult …. Liara's horse can carry you both, don't worry. Liara?"

Seemingly to need Liara's assurance, Jon waits for her to nod her head and answer. "Yes, she can hold us both." She glances to Jana and smiles softly. "She's stronger than she looks."

Nodding, because she has nothing else she could do but accept, Jana walks to Liara and her horse, waiting for instruction. "How do I?"

"Put your foot in the stirrup and pull yourself up, throwing your other leg over its back. Then scoot behind the saddle so I can get on."

It sounds much easier than Jana would think, but a quick glance at Tali and Jon shows that Tali's managed to get on and waits for Jon to mount the horse, her hands fidgeting in obvious anxiousness at the completely alien situation. Seeming to feel Jana's eyes, Tali looks over and her hands still. She gives a nod, perhaps encouragingly, and Jana sighs with her decision made.

Shifting her body to match Liara's position, Jana lifts her outer foot and wedges her boot into the stirrup. She takes a few bounces to build up her confidence before kicking up off the ground and swinging her leg over the horse's body. Once she's seated, the feat doesn't seem so impossible and she glances down, her inkling of fear at the height fading some when her mind realizes that, even if she falls, it'll be a fall she can easily survive.

For a moment, she forgets to give Liara her space. With a soft 'oh' Jana finally moves back and moves her hands around to try and see what she can grab a hold of. She has a feeling that once the horse is moving, she'll need some way to stay on but has no idea what would work. She glances at Liara's back as the asari shifts to glance over her shoulder and Jana gives a weak smile, nodding a go-ahead as she slips her fingers under the edge of the saddle to hold on.

"Are you ready?" Jon asks, walking his horse up beside Liara's, the riderless horse attached to his own and following closely behind. "It's going to be a bit of a rough ride as we gallop back to the docks. Along with Cerberus, we need to beat the storm too."

_What is 'ready' in a situation I never imagined myself being in? How do you ready yourself to ride a horse when it gallops, whatever that is?_

Instead of voicing her doubts, Jana exhales a heavy breath and nods. "Yeah. Let's get the hell out of here before Cerberus catches us."

"Good idea," Jon agrees with a smile as he pulls his reins to turn the two horses. Giving a shout and kick of his feet, his horse immediately takes off, building speed as it and the riderless horse beside it run down the valley.

As Liara kicks her own horse with an urgent sound, Jana realizes now what the word 'gallop' means and, with how her body bucks and jostles on the back of this horse, she decides she's not much of a fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


	3. The Normandy

**Chapter 3: The Normandy**

“Just how much … farther ….” Jana grunts, barely getting used to her breath getting knocked out of her lungs every time she is bucked about from the horse’s rough stride. She grimaces each time her body bounces and knows her groin is going be bruised, but the others - besides her dear friend Tali who looks in much the same state - don’t even seem to be bothered by the jostling of their speeding horses. “Are we … almost there?”

“Just a little farther,” Liara - seeming to be the only one who’s heard or simply the one closest to answer - says without looking back to Jana. She leans forward in her saddle and yells at her horse with a quick flap of her reins, urging the horse to keep up speed with the others.

Jana grips tighter onto the saddle and grinds her teeth at the sharp stabs of pain radiating up her spine with each heavy stomp of the horse’s feet. She really does hope they’re getting close to the docks and whatever means of escape Jon has in store for them because her fingers are starting to feel numb from gripping the saddle so hard. Without a saddle to sit in, stirrups to hook her boots in, or reins to hold onto, she feels like it’s only a matter of time before she just slides off Liara’s honey-colored horse’s rear.

_ My luck is it’ll even kick me on the way down with its back legs ….  _

When she thinks she has just enough balance to take a chance at getting a good look at what’s in front of them from around Liara’s back, Jane spares a glance ahead and over the crest of the steep hill they’re climbing. She smells the scent of salty air just as she sees actual, wooden docks, but is taken aback not by the rare sight of the ocean, but the impossible one of an antique  _ wooden ship _ bobbing softly in its waters. For Jana, boats like the one down there don’t exist outside of museums or vids, even the modern fishing vessels made of steel or - in the case of more expensive ships - polymer blends that weigh much less. 

This new Normandy - as emblazoned across its side - is not nearly as big as the Normandy she commanded, but logically, she’d imagine a boat the size of a frigate like her Normandy would be more a warship than what she thinks this one’s specialty must be. After all, if this world is starting to be like hers, then this Normandy has to be some kind of reconnaissance vessel, or one equally meant to slip in and out of places unnoticed.

“ _ Keelah _ ...  _ that’s  _ your Normandy?” Tali’s voice is tight as she grips tightly on to Jon’s armor, clinging to him desperately. Jana can’t blame her, not with her own frantic attempts to stay atop Liara’s horse, but she also wonders if Tali being quarian - and definitely not of a species that evolved on the same planet as and adapted to ride horses - plays a part in her capacity to stay on as safely as possible.

Jon hesitates a bit, glancing over his shoulder, but Jana’s sure his trojan-looking helmet blocks most of his view of Tali just as it masks the subtlest features of his expression. “Pardon?”

Tali doesn’t seem to notice the confused look Jon’s face that Jana sees as she clenches her eyes shut behind her mask and clings tighter to Jon’s back when she is jostled particularly hard. “I said … is that the Normandy?”

“Oh,” he says, voice full of uncertainty that Jana can’t quite place but has a suspicion might have to do with Tali. “Yes, that’s the Normandy.”

Neither speak and Tali seems to let Jon focus on leading his horse down the slope towards the Normandy, gangplanks set out between it and the dock with its crew loading it with barrels and various supplies. Jana wonders how they’re going to transport the horses - or if horses were even taken aboard ships back in her Earth’s history - and her gaze moves over Jon and his men to see if there is any kind of indication of what they plan for their massive steeds.

As they storm into the small gathering of crewmen packing the Normandy, Jon pulls back sharply on his reins and his horse skids to a halt, throwing its large head back with a heavy scoff of breath. It paces on its feet a moment before settling while Liara and Jameson bring their horses to a much smoother stop, though their horses still seem just as antsy as the massive white horse beneath Jon.

“Hurry up with those barrels!” He calls out as he hops off his horse, turning to help Tali down before returning his attention to his now alert crew. “Bettrice, Sybill,” he says, motioning two women that look so similar to the two soldiers that guarded the security checkpoint between Jana’s Normandy’s War Room and the rest of the ship, “Get the horses boarded. Just get them settled and deal with their gear later. Liara, get someone to get that  _ thing  _ aboard. I want you and EDI translating what you can from it. Jameson.” Jameson steps at attention while Liara offers a hand to Jana getting off her golden horse. “Get Ashlin to Chloe immediately. Stephen, get the rest on board, leave whatever isn’t necessary behind,” he adds, pointing a man that looks like Cortez towards the nameless crew now hurrying to load up supplies.

Jon begins up the gangplank at a brisk pace, leaving Jana and Tali to follow quickly behind as he continues to call out orders. He glances to them and jerks his head towards the darkened, lower deck that looks meant for all the Normandy’s cargo. “I’ll give you a proper tour once we’re on the water,” he says as he waves a group of the crew standing about towards the gangplank and others outside. “Get to work! I want those gangplanks up the second our horses are aboard!”

“Just tell us if you need us to do anything.” Jana speeds up to his side as they climb stairs further up into the ship. “I don’t know how much we can do without slowing you down-”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupts, leading the two women up at least three decks before reaching the top, though there is at least one more, smaller deck above. “Gregorius!” 

Jon storms up to the highest deck, where the large, wooden wheel stands vertically and, at its side, a man so surprisingly like Joker it stuns Jana for a moment. She quickly gathers herself though when a man looking like Adams rushes past her up the stairs to this navigation deck to see to Jon’s orders. 

“We need to get to the Citadel,” Jon tells Gregorius and his obvious Joker. “Ashlin is injured and we need to get whatever we find on the golem we brought aboard to the Council.” Gregorius nods and rushes back down the stairs, yelling out orders that are further relayed across the deck.

“First you bring a golem aboard,” Joker says with an amused huff before shifting the three-cornered - almost comically stereotypical - hat on his head to get a better look before motioning a hand towards Jana and Tali, “then we get some guests.”

“I’ll explain later,” Jon says, stepping to the railing overlooking the loading down below. “I mean it …. Be ready to cast off the moment I give the order.”

“That bad?” Joker shifts up straighter. “Cerberus knew something we didn’t?”

“That golem? It was theirs …. They’ve had it here for a while, according to Liara.”

“Liara and I have already begun to examine it,” a very familiar, yet out of place - all things considering - voice says and Tali even sucks in a breath at the sound of EDI’s voice. “The runes are extensive ….” Trying to follow the voice, Jana looks around the smaller deck and catches sight of a type of fountain, out of place and seeming to flow without any kind of mechanism. The liquid glows various colors, seeming to flicker to the tones of EDI’s voice echoing from it. “But we believe it may hold valuable information against the Reapers.”

“So it really  _ is  _ the Reapers,” Tali says, wringing her hands as she looks over the railing down to the bustling deck below. “ _ Keelah _ …. We can never escape them ….”

Jana frowns and pulls off her helmet, sighing as she turns to Jon. “I don’t know if it’ll help …. We never got this far where … we come from ….” She glances to Tali’s back, swallowing at her friend’s hunched shoulders. As much as she’s felt over her own failings, now that Tali’s here by her side, Jana isn’t sure she can just give up with it just being the two of them in a strange world. “But we’ll help as best we can.”

“Thank you.” Jon removes his own helmet, wiping sweat from his brow where a large scar cuts across his forehead and onto his scalp. “We’ll need all the help we can get.” Looking between the Jana and Tali, he huffs and tries for a weak smile. “You seem to already know most of our names, but I don’t know how to address either of you ….”

_ Shepard _ ….

Yet, that doesn’t really have the same ring in her ears as it once did. She hasn’t really allowed herself to be called ‘Shepard’ and think of any kind of authority in a long time. It’s just a name that is less personal than her first, but in this world that isn’t her own? Is there a point in being professional?

“Jana,” she says softly, laying a hand on her chest where her ring lies just beneath her armor. It’s a kind of a grounding piece of life she once had and it’s what she needs at this moment of uncertainty.

Tali turns from watching the crew below and dips her head slightly. “Tali’Zorah vas …. Well ….”

The others all seem to pause, a tension suddenly snapping to existence between them and Jana and Tali. Jon’s eyes widen in shock as he stares at Tali and Jana feels a strange itching at the back of her neck, unsure what’s going on. 

Has Tali done something? Have their introductions suddenly broken whatever acceptance there was between them?

“T … Tali, you say?” 

Joker gives a low whistle to cut off Jon and he pointedly looks away from the others. “That’s somethin’ ...” he says softly, almost unheard over the shouts of the crew all around them preparing the ship to disembark.

“I’m sorry …. Did I say something wrong?” Tali’s eyes betray her deep frown and Jana shifts closer to her friend.

There’s a long silence before Jon seems to regain his composure, clearing his throat as he rubs a gloved hand over the back of his neck, stretching it to each side. “Uh, no …. Sorry, Tali.” He smiles, but Jana knows it’s forced as he drops a hand to a small, purple rope tied to his belt. 

Jana immediately realizes what’s wrong …. Because it’s exactly what she’s doing ….

Dropping her hand from her hidden ring, she shifts to get Tali’s attention, their gazes meeting as she gives a slight nod not to worry. Tali seems to deflate in relief as Jana turns back to Jon and tries to change the conversation to any other kind of subject so her own thoughts don’t drift to impossibilities.

_ Could he ….? _

“So I take it that this is some kind of universes converging thing like in the vids,” Jana says in order to stop her mind from getting her hopes up, pausing when Jon looks to her in confusion. “Right, you probably don’t know what I just said ….”

“I got most of it, but not ‘vids.’” Jon shifts his helmet under his arm and motions her to walk with him to the edge of the deck and look down at the crew as they start to - if Jana’s old vid-watching has paid off - push against the large cog that’ll lift the anchor. “But I think you’re right …. Our realms must have converged. Liara would probably know more, but it seems like it was from the prothean artifact ….”

“The obelisk?” Jana lifts a brow and bites the corner of her lip before nodding. “All I remember is a building storm, then what I thought was being struck by lightning ….”

She glances to Tali and sees her friend nod, saying, “Me too …. I thought we died ….” She crosses her arms, rubbing her hands along the outsides of them as if to fend off some kind of chill. “I still don’t know if we did or not …. This place is so strange.”

“You knew Liara …. And I assume you know others here,” Jon says, lifting a brow in question and Jana nods.

“Yeah, but most have different names …. And … Ash isn’t alive … where we’re … from.” Jana frowns, chewing on the inside of her cheek at just how confusing it is to explain something she only thought possible in vids or in books. It makes her wonder just how much else is different - or the same. “She died on Virmire.” Sighing, Jana looks off into the distance. “I had to make a call ….”

Jon is quiet, only answering with a simple nod. Suddenly, Jane feels a slight shift of the boat beneath her feet and she looks to him in question, gaze moving over the deck below as men work at the sails at the calls and orders of who’s sure to be this world’s version of Daniels and Donnelly.

“We’re setting off.” He glances towards the stairs as Gregorius climbs up to the level. “Gregorius, I'm entrusting you to get us to the Citadel as quickly as possible. Stay out of sight from the coastline. I don't even want to see a glimpse of land on the horizon unless it's Thessia.”

“Of course, Captain,” the man gives a stern nod before clasping his hands behind his back. “Would you like me to relay any message to Samatha for her ravens?”

“Yes, actually. Send ravens to the Citadel of our approach, news to Palaven of the Reaper attack on Terra, and lastly, to Earth for the King.” Jon exhales a heavy, tired sounding breath as he looks towards the open ocean. “Hopefully, he's managed to escape with some of his fleet intact.”

Giving a firm salute, Gregorius bustles back down the stairs and across the deck towards what looks like it could be another top deck cabin on the opposite end of the ship. 

_ Ravens …. Seems so archaic and inefficient, but what else is there without an extranet? _

When Jon returns to them after speaking with Joker and pointing to the East, Jana pushes up from the railing and turns to him. 

“The Citadel, huh?” Anxiety prickles at the back of her neck and she reaches up to touch her chest but pauses midway before dropping her hand back to her side. “Is it safe?”

Jon doesn’t seem to have missed the movement but doesn’t remark as he nods and takes a deep breath, gaze moving out towards the South where the land curves further out into the ocean from their position before it finally drops into the water. “Yes. So far, I think the Citadel may be the safest place for you,” he says before looking between Jana and Tali. “We can take you there and see if the scholars at the University can find out how you came to be here. We’ll continue on our journey, but you can stay-”

“No,” both women say simultaneously before quieting, Tali looking to Jana with a concerned glance.

Jana swallows her nerves and drops her head, rubbing at the building ache at the back of her skull. “Our Citadel doesn’t turn out to be so safe ….” She glances at Tali before looking into Jon’s eyes, steeling her nerves as that little voice in the back of her head that’s been urging her forward whispers what she truly needs to do. “I’ll join you … if you’ll have me. And for what it’s worth.”

She leaves the decision to do the same up to Tali but inwardly hopes to herself that her friend won’t leave her side. She can’t ask that of her, though, not with all the hell she’s already led her closest friend through in their own universe. Tali still has a chance to make something of her life if Jon, indeed, knows how to defeat the Reapers. Already, he seems to have better odds since he hasn’t already begun to fail with the loss of the Cerberus … golem and its information.

“I’m staying too,” Tali says with a firm nod of her head before looking to Jana and giving her a personal nod, the silent promise to stay by Jana’s side passing between them.

_ I love you, Tali …. Thank you …. _

Jana’s lips twitch in a soft smile of thanks before she takes a look at her friend, then her own helmet in hand. “I don’t know how much help we can be,” she says to Jon, expression changing to a mask she hasn’t worn since losing her will to fight. If this is where they’ve ended up, and if this is where Tali will be safe should Jana fight for it, then she’ll do her best to make up for her failings. “Our weapons and tech don’t seem to be working, but if anyone can fix them, Tali can.”

A soft, seemingly wistful smile crosses Jon’s lips as he sets his hand on the purple roping looped on the belt at his hip. “Yeah … of course. At these times, there’s no use turning away aid. Maybe you can provide some knowledge that we may be able to interpret to our benefit.”

“We can try, but I have to tell you … I wasn’t doing so good saving the galaxy.” Frowning, Jana gives Tali an apologetic look, praying her friend would someday forgive her for all the worst that came from her apathy in their war. “I’m not a very good commander where we come from.”

Tali’s voice is soft, hurt, as she takes a step closer and lays a hand on Jana’s elbow. “Jana ….”

Jon lets the moment of silence rest in the air before he gives an understanding nod, his expression almost forgiving as if knowing Jana will be nothing more than a burden, a shattering of any hope at an advantage against his Reapers.

Running a hand over her head, sure that her pulled back hair is a mess from the sweat and her helmet, Jana sighs and lays her hand on Tali’s. “If we can’t use our weapons, we might be able to learn something else. Tali’s good with ….”

“I have a feeling I can learn about your ship if your crew teaches me,” Tali says, nodding as she tilts her head. “Our ...  _ ships _ are very different from yours, but I learn fast. I can repair tech, but maybe I can learn to repair something here.”

“What’s ‘tech?’” Jon looks them over. “Does it have something to do with your weapons not working like you say?” He crosses his arms as best he can with his helmet in hand and bulky armor. “Those aren’t crossbows, are they?” he asks, suspicion in his voice.

“No … but maybe they’re a bit like it if I understand what a ‘crossbow’ is,” Tali explains, looking to Jana in question of should she explain and Jana shrugs before giving a nod. “I’ve seen vids …. Crossbows launch something, right?” She clears her throat when Jon nods, shifting on her feet. Jana considers explaining the outdated human weapon instead, but talking seems to be calming Tali. “Our guns launch tiny, heated pieces of metal from an internal compartment …. But it takes tech - technology - to …. I guess to instruct the gun to do this. Without our tech working, our guns won’t fire.” Tali hums, rubbing her neck as she pauses, perhaps over explaining just what their tech is in a way Jon can understand.

“We have certain technology here, but nothing so … fantastical as that.” Jon rubs the stubble along his jaw, brows furrowed in thought. “Is there anything else that doesn’t work?”

“Our omni-tools,” Tali says a moment before physically wincing. “ _ Keelah _ , that’s going to be difficult to explain.”

Jana hums and bites her lip. “It’s a more advanced technology-”

“ _ Maker … more  _ advanced?”

Jana huffs a soft laugh at Jon’s shocked look, but Tali takes it in stride as she explains. “It’s like …. You know what tells our guns to fire? It’s like a brain …. An onni-tool is like a smarter brain. It can do a lot more, a lot more  _ important  _ things.”

“Like communicate in a way that’s much faster and more efficient than ravens,” Jana says in way of a better explanation. “And it can reach other omni-tools across the galaxy.”

Jon is silent for a long time, probably stunned by the idea. Jana figures he may even be trying to comprehend the mere idea of something given how - saying without a better word - primitive this world is. She knows she and Tali shouldn’t even  _ try  _ to explain what high-grade omni-tools can do if the basics are so out of this world already. 

_ Imagine the concept of Tali’s drone …. _

Letting out a heavy breath, Jon stumbles a bit to the railing and leans heavily on it. “This …. This is so …. You really live like that?” he asks Tali before glancing to Jana but seems to speak to himself. “ _ Maker …. _ ”

“Maybe ….” Jana stops, unsure how to proceed as she shifts on her feet. “Maybe it doesn’t matter though. If Tali can’t get them to work ….”

She glances at her friend, starting to question just how important an omni-tool and tech is to her quarian friend. Does her suit run off tech? Is she able to survive without it? Could there be a way to manually control the simulated environment Tali’s sealed suit has?

_ Could I lose her too? _

Not wanting to bring up these questions in front of strangers - and strangers from another world, at that - Jana clears her throat to get Jon’s attention. When he finally looks up from his off-distance gaze, Jana motions out over the ship’s top deck.

“Is there any way we can get someplace to recoup? To … catch our bearings?” Her gaze moves over the horizon and slowly shrinking shore. “I figure we have a long while to settle in for.”

“Yeah …. Yeah.” Standing up, he waves to Joker and raises his voice. “I’m going to show Jana and Tali around the ship, get them settled. You and Gregorius have the command until I return.”

“Aye, Captain,” Joker says with a humorous quirk to his lips as he gives a tip of his hat but doesn’t look away from his guidance out into the open ocean at a diagonal leave from the coast.

“Come on, ladies,” Jon says with a slight, although forced, smile on his lips. “I’ll have to think over what you said, but let’s get you settled first.”

The wood of the stairs creak as Jon leads them down, explaining their surroundings as he goes. “You were just at the Helm, the heart of the Normandy. Below it is the Captain’s Cabin … my cabin.” He half turns to them to both speak somewhat directly to them without bumping into anything or anyone on the busy deck. “This is our top deck. The small cabin at the bow is our Navigation Cabin where Gregorius and I can plot out our course as well as has a small foremost cabin where Samatha tends to our ravens. Down these stairs,” he says, taking the creaking steps into the darkness only lit by lanterns hanging on hooks on the walls and support beams through the level.

“Here we are on the Crew Deck.” He huffs a laugh. “My crew’s favorite deck, you’ll find. Below was the Cargo Deck …. I won’t make you go back down there since the most important aspect of it is its use …. We have a small brig at the stern, but I’ve yet to need it. Still, though, it’s good to have in case we run into anything.”

They stand in a slightly small, but obvious gathering point for the crew with the rest of the deck divided by walls for obvious privacy and better order on such a bustling, cramped feeling ship. Jane looks around to the crates and barrels made into makeshift seating around larger ones obviously intended as tables all scattered about.

“Aft is our galley. Behind that is our infirmary,” Jon says as he points to what Jana thinks is the back of the ship - if she isn’t turned around. Walking towards a wall divided by a hall, he motions his head towards their right. “Forward are the sleeping quarters for the crew. We’ve divided it into bigger rooms for at least some space between the crew, but this is where everyone sleeps for the night.” 

Jana glances into the open doorways of a bunk room as they pass, catching sight of decently sized rooms full of bunks that look like the military cots she’s used before when living with nothing but a duffle out in the field as well as hammocks secured to the support beams for others. The cots are secured to the wooden deck and covered in a fabric pulled somewhat taut in a makeshift hammock for those spaces where a traditional one wouldn’t fit. A few chests are situated in a set order across the deck for personal effects, but there are also duffles for who perhaps haven’t had the time to settle in properly.

Towards the end of the hall are actual doors, four in total with two on each wall. Jon stops at a door and turns fully to Jana and Tali.

“I have a feeling you’d feel more comfortable with a cabin to yourselves,” he says as he pushes open the door to the room, mostly bare save for the two beds - the closest to actual beds with their wooden frames secured to the ground and covered in what looks like straw and big blankets of fur - a chest at the foot of each, and small window on the far wall and a lantern hanging beside the door. Jana’s certainly seen worse quarters, even if those beds were made of metal and cloth secured to the  _ metal  _ of a - space - ship’s deck. “I hope you’re okay with sharing.”

Jana lets out a nervous chuckle as she looks to Tali. “I think we can manage without pulling each other’s hair out,” she jokes softly, giving Tali a warm, encouraging smile.

Tali’s eyes crease in a smile as she tilts her head. “That’d be easier for me to do anyway.”

Jon barks a boisterous laugh as he grins, waving the two women into their room. “I hope you can settle in well enough. I’ll have someone get you something to wear when you get your armor off ….” He scratches his jaw. “I don’t know if Jameson knows how to clean that kind of … armor. What kind of metal is it?”

“It’s not metal, it’s a high polymer blend,” Jana says and sets her helmet on the chest at the foot of her chosen bed. It looks less comfortable without as much straw as the other and she chooses it because, well, Tali deserves the best considering she’s been thrown in a strange world without the tech that’s such a huge part of her life. If Jana can make up for their situation by giving Tali the better bed, then she’d be happy. She’d be content even if she had to sleep on the floor. “I don’t think your stuff will work with it, but I’d appreciate some kind of clothes besides my undersuit.”

Tali fidgets a bit, looking at the ground as she wrings her hands. “I … can’t take off my armor ….” Before Jon can speak, she shrugs. “It’s a long story ….”

Jon closes his mouth, quieting his question, and smiles with an accepting nod. “Maybe another day, then.” Glancing between Jana and Tali, he looks around the room with a hum. “You ladies try to get comfortable. We’ll get you some clothes and I’ll come get you when there’s something ready to eat.”

Jana forces a laugh. “Yeah, food sounds amazing.”

_ … but also brings up a serious question. _

She waits until Jon steps out, the door closing behind him, before sighing and dropping to the bed. Here she’s been wondering how she’ll handle this situation when Tali is facing a whole new dilemma in silence. How can Jana fret over mere comfort when Tali’s  _ life  _ could be at stake.

“How are you on food?” she asks, looking up to Tali as her friend sits across from her. “Is your suit okay?” Jana hums and sits back, running her hand over her head as she jostles her leg in nerves. “Shit, are you going to be  _ okay  _ here?”

“Jana,” Tali says, stilling her with a hand on Jana’s knee. “It’s okay ….” She hums and glances at the wooden ground between them. “I have some rations with me I can spread out …. Then I have some sanitizing packets for food …. Extra filters …. I can use the antiseptic from medi-gel ….  _ Keelah _ , it’d be better with my tool,” she whispers and Jana shifts to the edge of her bed and grasps Tali’s hands to now stop  _ her  _ from fidgeting.

“Hey,” Jana says, squeezing her friend’s hands. “You’ll take everything from my gear you can use. We have to be able to make  _ something  _ work with everything we have.” Taking a deep breath, she drops her head and closes her eyes. “Maybe there’s something here that we can use if - God forbid - something happens to your suit.” She swallows heavily and blinks back unshed tears. She  _ can’t  _ lose Tali now too. “There have to be quarians here …. There has to be a way of life for them we can use too ….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


	4. The Citadel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
> _Bestemt_ \- 'Definitely.' Usually said as a proclamation
> 
>  _Stolt_ \- 'Arrogant person.' An insult geared towards merchants who charge very high prices without having a reputation for quality merchandise.
> 
>  _Oppfostre_ \- 'Asshole.' Can be taken as an insult or endearment based on the situation.
> 
>  _Maker velsigne deg_  - 'Maker bless you.' Exact tone is based on situation
> 
> Rebob - Looks like a pyjak, but with more subdued, natural colors and their front limbs are wings similar to a bat's with extra fingers at their wrists

Jana groans, the sound rumbling in her throat as her stomach lurches again, rolling in her abdomen with the swaying of the Normandy on the ocean waves. Lying down hasn't been helping and closing her eyes only seems to make the imbalance that much more intense. She doesn't know how many times she's emptied her stomach contents during the past few days, dry heaving to the point that her chest aches and her throat burns when she had nothing left.

_And everyone else acts like the constant, heavy rocking of the ship is no big deal. Like they don't even feel it when the Normandy jerks so hard that they have to catch themselves before they tumble._

"Ugh …." Rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand, she cracks open an eye and turns her head slightly in order to catch a glimpse of Tali, studiously working at pieces of their tech spread out across the small floor space of their cabin. "How can you look so comfortable with this constant swaying?" she asks with a huff, envious of her friend and the fact that she hasn't heard her complain of nausea even once during their long journey, which is probably for the best considering Tali's helmet and the fact that it's not like she can just remove it every time her stomach demands.

"Mhmm?" Tali glances up from where she's meticulously picking at one of their omni-tool bands - Jana can't be sure which with how much Tali's disassembled it. "Oh …." Shrugging, Tali sets down a small piece and reaches over to a pile designated for Jana's disassembled pistol, picking up another tiny piece of tech Jana can't even begin to identify. "There are older ships in the Flotilla that still have outdated dampeners. It feels sorta like this when they take a Relay or shift into FTL. The Rayya did it for a little while when one of its dampeners malfunctioned."

Attention perking up at the fact that the ship Tali grew up on had any kind of malfunction, Jana shifts to sit up on her elbow and look directly at her friend. "But that's all that happened, right? You weren't in danger from it?"

Jana knows Tali's been picking up on her slightly paranoid, protective streak but neither of them have brought it up directly. She's sure Tali wouldn't keep it to herself if she found it intrusive, but Jana still worries about pushing her friend away because Jana's clinging on too tightly because she can't bear to lose the only person she has that's important to her anymore. Afraid of how panicked her questions came across, Jana forces herself to lay back on the bed and close her eyes, mentally scolding herself for being so jumpy.

She knows a lot of her anxiety comes from her constant seasickness, but it still feels good when Tali mutters under her breath, laboring away at making sense of their inactive tech as if she hadn't noticed the slight break in Jana's tone.

"Don't worry …" Tali says over the sounds of her shuffling through more of the pieces of tech on the ground and Jana opens her eyes to glance over out of the corner of her eye to gauge Tali's mood concerning her work. She seems slightly irritated, but still intent on getting something out of their so far useless equipment as she continues to explain. "The engineers had to manually repair the faulty connections, but the other dampener worked fine when we needed to go FTL …. It was just a little swaying about and nausea until it was fixed."

Jana nods with a slight smile aimed at the wooden planks above, grateful for good, old fashioned quarian ingenuity. It's what makes her confident Tali can make at least something out of all their equipment even though there's been a consistent litany of muttered curses coming from her friend the entire time she's been at it. Most days, she gets to the point of working with their tech that frustration wins out over determination, but it seems like there's something about the shipwide talk that says they'll finally be at the Citadel that seems to have put a sense of urgency in Tali's efforts.

Sighing, Tali seems to have finally given up as she sets the pieces of tech back down and leans back against the frame of her bed. "I don't know if any of this is going to work, Jana …."

"If anyone can manage it, it's you," Jana says, finally sitting up but pausing a second as she closes her eyes to let her lightheadedness dissipate after the sudden movement. She lets out a deep breath and opens her eyes to find Tali watching her.

"How are you doing?" Tali tilts her head, concern obvious in her eyes. "You seem better, but it's still hard to understand human body language."

Huffing a soft laugh, Jana flips a hand in the air. "I haven't thrown up today, but the day is young."

She takes a long moment to gather her nerves before she stands and moves to the chest at the foot of her bed where there's a small collection of clothes Jon and his crew have gathered up for her to use. It's not something she immediately worried about when she and Tali were thrown in this strange new reality, but it became an obvious dilemma the first night when she took off her armor and found all she had to wear was her undersuit and the pair of panties beneath. She doesn't even have a bra here because she often relied on the support from the thick, yet flexible material of the undersuit to keep her breasts secured.

She's grateful then for Jon's insistence on giving Jana at least one set of clothes outside of her undersuit because, even as basic as they are, the loose shirt, pants, and worn jacket have given her a sense of comfort she knows her undersuit is incapable of. One of the crew - Sybill, Jana thinks she remembers her name is - even gave her a pair of shoes that, though barely pass as anything more than thin foot wraps, are easily a thousand times better than walking around in her armored boots.

_It's truly unfortunate that Tali couldn't make use of anything the crew put together for her, but, then again, Tali's used to never getting out of her suit, so perhaps she's more comfortable knowing she's wearing something both familiar and doing its job to keep her safe from the elements. We both know this world is **way**  less sanitized and clean than our own._

A slight knock on their door draws both of their attentions and Jana stands up to see who's come and if it's the word of arriving at the Citadel she's been waiting for so she can finally get on some solid ground.

The door really isn't anything in the way of privacy, but they both appreciate the crew's attempt to give them the space and peace and - somewhat - quiet they need to get used to everything. It isn't too often that they have visitors and, of those that do come, it's usually Jon or someone at his orders to just stopping by check up on them and how they're settling. Liara and Jameson have knocked once or twice in their trip to gather Jana and Tali up for the meager meals in the mess - the Normandy obviously not stocked with the appropriate amount of food for the size of crewmembers aboard when the Reapers attacked unexpectedly and they had to make a quick escape - but it seems the two are still wary of the mysterious strangers.

Not surprising, Jana considers, when she and Tali could  _technically_  be blamed for part of Ashlin's injuries and critical state. Because of that, Jana hasn't taken it too personally. She would be just as suspicious of people claiming to be from a reality where there were apparently other versions of herself and her friends there too.

She can't really imagine what it's like to face a pair of strangers that could possibly know a hell of a lot of personal things about herself and there be a complete lack of reciprocation. At least, it seems like Jana is more mysterious as her friend. Tali, they seem to have some familiarity with, but judging by the caution they still approach her with, there must be something bad surrounding their realities' Tali'Zorah.

Jana isn't sure of her friend, but she's picked up on the occasional awkwardness coming from Jon when he talks directly to Tali. He mostly maintains a more positive outlook on the situation that brought them together than Jana, but she isn't blind. She's noticed the way he tends to reach for that braided, purple rope always tied to his person in some way or another.

It's like when she rolls her ring between her fingers late into the night, staring at the wooden ceiling while her mind runs wild.

_He carries the same weight on his shoulders as me …. I don't know if I will be as accepting as he is if I learn that he has his own version of … **him**._

"Come in," Tali says, cutting into Jana's thoughts with a knowing glance in her direction before turning completely to their guest.

Jon looks between the two of them before offering a tired smile -  _he's been running ragged … or losing sleep._

"We're approaching the Citadel," he says, stepping in completely so that Jana finally sees a pile of what looks like folded clothes in one of his hands. "I just figured I'd bring you something to wear. Tali, I know quarians here prefer to wear lots of clothing to cover themselves and I apologize that we don't have that, but I'm sure-"

"Oh, I can't take off my suit," she interrupts, using the edge of her bed to climb to her feet. At Jon's confused frown, she rubs at one of her arms and looks away from him. "It's a long story …."

Jon seems to consider the deeper meaning to those words but gives a slight nod before smiling ever so slightly. "Maybe you can tell me it one day …." He looks to Jana and hands over the stack of clothes. "Here you go. Some of the crew put together something for you to wear …. I guess they figured you probably wouldn't be one for asari garb, but if you'd like, I'm sure Liara-"

"Oh, no thanks." Jana chuckles a bit as she takes the offered clothing. She's seen some of what Liara wears and the long, flowing fabrics are definitely not Jana's style even without the seven-inch height difference between her and this version of Liara causing a problem -  _still need to come to terms with that surprising revelation_. "I can manage with this, but … uh, no offense," she says, holding her arms out and looking down at herself, "but what's wrong with this I'm wearing? Or the other stuff you gave me to wear?"

Jon grins in that way that he usually does when they've come across something different so insignificant in the big picture but still amusing when comparing their two realities. Chuckling, he shakes his head and crosses his arms. "Now, I'm not one to tell a lady how to dress, but you'll look awfully out of place walking around in seamen's garb. It's the equivalent of …. Well, let's just say that you'll be really out of place at the shops Liara will be taking you to to get you some actual clothes of your own. Most merchants might not take you seriously if you walk into their shops looking like you're a deckhand or can't afford anything better."

"Oh." Pausing to skim through the piles of clothes Jon has given her, she lifts a brow and looks him over, his clothing slightly more kept than her own, but definitely not much different in terms of style besides the tall boots instead of her foot wraps.

Tali hums as she watches before she speaks, her tone full of skepticism. "You don't look all that fancy …. Uh, no offense," she quickly says with a huff of her own bit of embarrassment.

He laughs cheerfully enough that Tali visibly relaxes. "I'll be changing too, just wanted to get you both settled with something before I head back up to oversee the docking." His amusement quiets down to a few chuckles as he gives both women a quick nod before adding, "I'll let you two get ready. Tali, even if you aren't going to change, but want something to drape over yourself - maybe make yourself more comfortable in the Citadel - let Liara know."

"Thank you," Tali says with a noticeable smile to her voice before giving a soft hum of thought. "I think …. Yeah, okay. I'd like something …. Just to look less out of place."

_Does this world have prejudices against quarians walking around the Citadel like our own?_

"Will her being a quarian be a problem?" Jana sets her clothing down on her bed before sitting down beside them to start at unwrapping her foot wraps.

"No, I don't think so." Jon cups his chin and strokes his stubbled chin a moment as he examines Tali. "But it wouldn't hurt to try to take away from the look of your ... suit," he asks, unsure of the word but continuing when Tali nods. "I'll let Liara know to look in her wardrobe for something …. I don't know …. Maybe a shawl or something …. Again, I don't really know how to tell a lady to dress, I'm afraid," he adds with a chuckle before stepping back over the room's threshold. "I'll leave you to get ready …. Oh," he says, stopping midway in shutting the door. "Jana, what metal is your armor made of? We might be able to get a blacksmith to look at it for any damages or if he can reinforce it."

"Uh …." Jana huffs in amusement at how strange she's going to sound. How is she going to explain what the hell a polymer blend is? "Yeah …. Let's just say it's not metal. It's a blend of other materials I  _know_  isn't something you wouldn't just find anywhere …. Hell, I don't even know if you guys can make it."

"Oh." His surprised and confusion is apparent in the way he looks between Jana and Tali a few times as if trying to imagine. "Well …. I guess we can have some armor made for you - That is if you're going to be fighting with us, of course," he adds quickly with a questioning expression.

Jana is quiet a moment, considering. She knows she'll be pretty much useless with her weapons no more than hunks of metal and only a handful of grenades that seem to be the only thing that works from her equipment, but she wants to be useful. She  _needs_  to be something worth Jon's while if she and Tali are going to stick around. She can't stand to be a burden … and maybe she can use her Alliance training for something here.

"Yeah," she says, nodding as she turns to Tali to speak to her friend more than Jon. "I want to help any way I can and if you think I'll need proper armor to do it, then tell me what I need to do to get it."

Silently, Tali nods. 'I'm with you' that look and squaring of her shoulders promises and Jana smiles, grateful to have her only anchor right there beside her in all this. Maybe, if Jon can manage to make use of Jana, there's a way Tali can be of use without being in the middle of the battlefield where she could damage her suit in any way.

"Great." Jon smiles at the two of them and jerks his head to the side. "I'll let Jameson know you'll need some armor too. We have weapons we can train you with, so just worry about what you can manage to wear into battle first."

"Right," Jana agrees, turning to her clothes as he leaves, but calls out just as the door closes. "Wait!" Pausing for Jon to come back, she smiles weakly, aware of a very real obstacle concerning all this he has planned for her. "I don't have any way to pay for this …. And I can't really expect-"

"Nonsense," he cuts in, shaking his head. "I don't expect you to worry about that. You joining us in any capacity will pay back any gold everything will cost. You need clothing if you're going to be joining me anyplace off the Normandy and armor for any battles we'll come across. Don't worry," he says with a low chuckle in the back of his throat, though he doesn't sound all that amused. "I don't think we'll find a lack of situations where you can prove your worth with everything how it's becoming."

"Thanks … I guess," she says with a slight frown. He's very right even though she has no real clue and she hates it, hates that it seems that this world is in as much trouble as the one she left. "I really hate that kind of agreement, but if you insist that I need these things, I'll go wherever you say I need to go to get them. And do whatever I need to do repay you."

"Very good. I'll let Gregorius know you'll need gold and Liara is already anticipating helping you find a good dressmaker. Jameson will know what's best for your armor and who to go to get it, so I'll send down word that he'll be joining you." Gaze moving to Tali, he gives her a nod. "Perhaps you and Liara can come up with something to make you feel more at home despite not being able to actually change clothing."

"Sure." Tali lets out a deep breath as she turns to Jana, obviously watching as Jana digs through the clothes for something she feels comfortable wearing that  _should_  also pass the test. "Well, looks like we're heading into the Citadel … for real now."

Jana chuckles nervously. "As much as I hate going into the unknown, it's good that we won't be completely alone and left to figure it out." Pulling out a pair of tighter fitting, dark brown pants that feel less worn than her current ones, Jana sets them aside to look for some kind of top. "Even if we are walking on eggshells around each other, I trust Liara and Jameson won't just leave us to fend for ourselves. The Citadel sounds just a lot like our own and I really don't want to get lost," she says, grabbing a loose, long-sleeved shirt much better kept than her current one and a type of vest that'll need to be laced up the front. "Think this is right?"

"How should I know?" Tali chuckles and walks over, examining the vest. "I think it'll work. You are going out to find clothes, right?"

"Very right," Jana agrees, pulling her shirt off over her head. "At least it'll help support my breasts."

Tugging on the looser, white shirt, she straightens it out over her hips, she takes the vest from Tali and pulls it on. Tali swats at her hands so she can help tug the leather tie through the holes along the center of the dark emerald vest, securing it snuggly, but still comfortable enough for Jana to breathe and move easily. Jana deals with her pants as Tali leaves her to look through the rest of the clothing, making a sort of triumphant sound when she holds up what looks like a pair of boots similar to Jon's.

"Well, that's a hell of a lot better than foot wraps," Jana says as she sits on her bed to tug the leather boots on, folding over the tops to keep them snuggly secured around her calves. "You think I'll pass inspection?"

Tali shrugs, but Jana can tell she's smiling as she helps her to her feet. Looking down over herself, Jana shrugs as well and takes a few steps around their cabin, carefully avoiding the piles of tech scattering across the floor.

"Well, I better. This is actually pretty damn comfortable." She heads to the door and grips the round handle just as there's another knock at the door.

Opening it, she finds Liara dressed in a black and dark green dress that seems more like fabric draped along her front and back and kept together along the sides with gold clasps that clearly leave room to catch glimpses of her sky blue skin. She's draped a darker, almost black green shawl around her neck and left shoulder, making her attire a bit less revealing - in Jana's opinion due to her complete lack of knowledge if all asari wear such clothing - and she wears delicate sandals.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to be dressed so quickly," she says, blushing a bit as she chuckles anxiously. "That was really fast."

"Will I fit in well enough in the Citadel?" Jana holds out her arms and grins when Liara looks her over and gives a smile and approving nod.

"Is this about what you'll like us to buy for you?"

"Definitely. I'm not one for dresses - no offense."

Liara waves the apology away and gives a slight shake of her head. "Asari clothing is not traditionally what humans find appealing save for people living in the Citadel." Shifting on toes to see around Jana, she smiles at Tali. "I brought you a shawl that I think matches really well with your hood."

Jana steps aside to let Liara in and smiles at the deep purple fabric in Liara's hands. It definitely looks like good quality clothing and she's sure it comes from Liara's own collection of clothing. Tali even seems a bit excited to see what Liara's brought, closing the gap between them before Liara can even get too far into their cabin.

"It's a fine silk," Liara explains as she holds it up in a silent 'may I?' and smiles when Tali nods and holds out her hands at her sides. "I really enjoy the feel of it and it's very comfortable."

Unfolding the large piece of fabric, Jana can see how it glistens with different tones of purple varying on the way the light hits it. It truly is beautiful and it makes her happy for her friend, that Tali can be included at least in some way by getting to wear it even if she can't feel the thread and fibers against her skin.

Liara drapes it across Tali's shoulders, wrapping it loosely twice around them before lifting it over and covering Tali's hood. With the remainder, she wraps once more around Tali's neck before tucking in the end. She steps back and gives an approving nod before looking to Jana in question.

"I like it," Jana says, grinning at her friend. "It suits you."

"I agree." Liara fiddles with a fold before smiling. "And you look less out of place than before."

Jana nods in agreement, noticing how her friend looks much less like a spacefarer and more like someone who's well-traveled with experience of this world they've stumbled into. Given quarians' nomadic lifestyle, she can even imagine such attire being worn on Rannoch in a colder season - which she's sure every planet has - back before the geth forced them to flee their homeworld. Maybe one day she'll ask Tali if she agrees.

"You both look great." Moving to leave, Liara motions with her hand. "I believe we're just about to dock … if you want to watch?"

"Oh yeah," Jana says, excited both in seeing something so new to her as a real ship coming into dock and - perhaps more so - for finally getting to dry land. She starts to follow Liara out but not before giving her friend a jerk of her head. "You coming?"

"Of course," Tali says matter of factly, a clear tone of feigned offense at any doubt. "I wanna see every part of the Citadel, even the docks."

Liara chuckles as she leads the way through the deck towards the stairs. The ship isn't all that unfamiliar to Jana and Tali as it initially was thanks to their occasional exploration and Jana's numerous - unfortunate - trips to the top deck where she can empty her stomach over the railing without making a mess on the lower decks.

When they reach the top deck, the sun is bright and blinding for the few seconds it takes for her eyes to adjust. All around is the bustle of the crew working to pull down the sails and prepare the ship for docking. She, Tali, and Liara are sure to stay out of the ways of people crossing back and forth across the deck with some intent Jana has no clue of and it isn't until she sees Jon standing with Joker and Gregorius at the helm that she knows where  _she's_  even supposed to be amongst all the hardworking, hurried crew. True to his word, Jon has changed into something better suited for the Citadel, though of an obviously much higher class than her own wardrobe.

Wearing a long, navy blue jacket that gives her the feel of what an official Alliance officer would wear with its golden clasps down the length of it and folded over lapels, Jon looks over the deck at his men at work. He grins when his eyes fall on Jana and Tali - though she's sure the expression is mostly for Tali - and waves a hand to join him on the uppermost deck to oversee the docking with him.

"You look fantastic, ladies," he says as they climb the stairs. "I'd never guess you're from another realm just looking at you now." Waving his hand out towards the shore, he speaks with pride in his tone as he motions the shore of a massive, stone city. "Welcome to the Citadel."

" _Keelah_  …."

Though small in comparison to a giant space station, this Citadel and its size seem even more impressive given the lack of technology that'd make its construction easier. How many centuries has it been since anyone in Jana's universe built something so  _massive_  by hand?

Marked by a large, tower seemingly in its exact center, the Citadel forms a rough circle around this central - and obviously - vital structure. The tower itself must be close to 400 meters tall - definitely comparable to the height of her Earth's Empire State Building - and stands high above the rest of the city's skyline. The Citadel itself must have a diameter close to twice the height of the tower with a tall surrounding wall and inner walls that look to divide the city into six different sections encircling a center one at the base of the tower. The entire city seems to be made of white and golden, sand-colored stones with buildings of varying shapes and heights within but majorly staying below the upper height of the protecting walls. She can't see too much beyond the other side of the city and in the fields beyond, but it does seem like there are two, smaller, encircled cities or some such extended out from the main Citadel.

It's very similar to the way the docks are separated from the city, jutting into the dark waters of whatever ocean it sits. Its outer border is a curved wall similar to the rest of the Citadel's stylized design, but it's only a half circle open towards the Citadel with a long section of docks connecting the two. Jana can bet her life on the idea that the way this section curves inward is intended to provide a greater chance at protecting the docked ships from any outside attack coming from the open sea.

With the Normandy slipping into the man-made cove, Jana sees all manner of ships coming in and out to dock or return to the open ocean. She can tell there's an obvious order to the docking setup by the looks and designs of the ships and where they're dropping anchor, the long bridge to the Citadel meant for the fancier or more important looking vessels as the outer half ring's short docks are meant for personal or lower class ships. The outer ring itself had apparently been hiding its own kind of small section of the city, though the buildings looked more like some kind of shops with small homes sheltered behind and filling the gap to press against the protective wall.

_The makeshift buildings I saw behind that wall and against the open ocean must not have that much importance …. Perhaps no one really cares what happens to those people in an oceanfront attack?_

Jana frowns slightly at the very possible truth. It's what would happen even in her own reality, the obviously barely thrown together dwellings that fall outside of the protection of a massive structure falling victim first to any attack. Only, usually, her universe dealt in colonies and planets instead of handfuls of people. Somehow, this just seems to make it feel more personal. To put faces to an attack instead of view it as a whole carries a bigger sense of failure to her, though perhaps it's because she'd be projecting her own kind of loss on the situation.

_Mordin once said it's easier to fight a war like this when you have an actual face to fight for instead of faceless masses and, with how I left my world, it's easy to see everyone I failed in these people if Jon fails …. If **we**  fail._

"You alright?" Tali asks, suddenly close to Jana's side as she lays a hand on her arm.

Letting out a terse breath, Jana nods and lays her own hand on Tali's. "Getting lost in my head …." She leaves it at that, knowing her friend understands without elaboration as Jana turns her attention to Jon. "So this is  _all_  the Citadel? Everything?"

Jon chuckles, showing that bemused smile once more as he nods. "Yeah, everything you see in walls like that one is the Citadel. The biggest city in all of Eros -  _all of Alysim_. Some of the smaller settlements and villages outside of it can also be considered as part of the Citadel's territory, but not part of the city itself."

"It's massive," Tali says, awe in her voice, and Jana nods. "All things considering …."

"How does it compare to your own?"

Jana hums, the topic of just  _exactly_  how drastic their universes'  _seemingly place in time_  is feeling like a talk meant for everyone to sit down and truly take it in. "Well, ours is bigger, but in comparison to the rest of our reality, it's the biggest place just like for you guys." She shakes her head and crosses her arms, still amazed at the capacity of Jon's people to make this place.

She doesn't remember much of the ancestors and histories of her own universe's species - even humans - but everything of this kind back there just didn't hold the same impression because it wasn't  _alive_  like this Citadel is. Ruins in her reality were all just that, dead structures where visitors were told tales of great feats, but here, Jana can see first hand how life thrived around what these people have made, of their ingenuity in a world where advancement doesn't seem easy.

"It's just so … amazing to know this was all made by hand …."

Jon nods, smiling as he looks out over the Citadel and they draw nearer to the docks Jana judges are meant for important vessels like the Normandy should be. At least it should be considering the importance Jon and his crew will have in this war.

"It truly is impressive … but I have to admit that it wasn't built by our people …." He glances to Liara. "We think it was the Protheans."

Liara sets her hands on the railing of the ship's deck, its dark wood speckled from the salty water that must have been thrown up in the rough waters they previously sailed through. "I'm starting to wonder if even that's true anymore …."

None of the group remark on that as Jana shifts her attention back towards the Citadel, now watching as the dock workers scramble towards the edge of the docks, perhaps preparing to assist the Normandy. She feels how Joker steers the Normandy to drift in parallel with the wooden and stone docks and lets out a deep sigh, reminded of just how grateful she is that they're finally about to get off the ship by the sickly quivering of her empty stomach.

"I'm sure as hell going to be happy to be on solid ground." She huffs a soft laugh of amusement. "I know none of you would get the reference - maybe not even you, Tali - but I feel like those old movies where someone falls out of the boat and starts kissing the ground in joy." When the others look to her in complete bafflement, she laughs. "Yep, that's what I figured …."

"Humans are strange," Tali mutters, but the smile is obvious in her voice as she shuffles closer to Jana's side. "Maybe we'll be here long enough for you to finally get to keep some food down."

"I wish you had told someone you were seasick," Jon says, frowning in slight hurt and concern. "I know Chloe has been busy tending to Ashlin, but I'm sure she has some remedies you could have tried."

"I figured you might say that and I didn't want to take away from her work with Ash - sorry, Ashlin." Shrugging, Jana steps away from the railing and her gaze roves the top deck. "I'll be okay now when I get off the ship and get walking around."

"Speaking of …." Liara smiles and taps a pouch tied to her side. "I'm excited to help you get some things to wear."

Jana snorts and smiles back. "Something makes me think you're more happy to be visiting the shops."

" _Goddess_ , yes," Liara replies with a deep exhale. "Translating the runes we found at Mars has been draining …."

Jon chuckles and glances across the deck and gives a nod to someone who isn't there anymore when Jana takes a look. "Well, Jameson is motioning that everything's set. I'll send forward a request for a hearing with the Council." He sighs and Jana can tell his Council might be just as insufferable as her own. "I don't expect they'll be quick enough to summons us today, though." Shaking his head, he rubs his palm over his stubbled cheek. "When you return to the ship later, we can see if maybe you'd rather sleep at an inn for the night …. Might help with your seasickness to take advantage of finally being ashore."

"I really don't want to take more money-"

"Don't worry," Liara interrupts, taking Jana and Tali's hands and gently tugging them toward the stairs. "You're our guests and we'd be happy to give you some comfort. You said you didn't have ships where you come from, right? So this must be such an experience."

Jana huffs in awkward amusement, happy that Liara seems comfortable enough to touch and even be cheerfully looking forward to spending time with herself and Tali. "Yeah …. It's definitely not something we're used to. Tali is, a bit more than me, though."

Jana lets Liara explain about - water-bound - ships as they travel down to the cargo deck, not correcting her thinking that they just never existed in Jana and Tali's reality because she has a feeling explaining  _flying_  ships is going to be quite the talk too. She'd much rather get into the thick of life on the Citadel, start experiencing and getting a mind for the people and environment of the world they're now in. Being at sea is one thing, but walking among the people in a city completely out of her world is another.

_Forget a culture shock …. This is a shock of an entirely different magnitude …._

"There you are!" Jameson wears a thick fur cloak that gives a lot of bulk to his shoulders and barely covers his torso where an intricate, braided and curving tattoo of a bear climbs up his right arm and onto the side of his chest. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and looks Tali and Jana over. "You look much better now.  _Now_  you belong," he adds with a grin and motions to join him as he leads towards and down the gangplank onto the dock.

The dock isn't as crowded as Jana would initially expect, but it isn't bare either. Personal space doesn't really seem to exist to most - usually, the lesser dressed - as they brush up against her in passing and, judging by the way Liara and Jameson seem to be more guarded, she realizes it's just like back home. People don't lack a personal sense of privacy, but they're trying to see if they can pickpocket herself and Tali.

She realizes she and Tali are going to need to learn how to protect any gold they may get because it seems like pockets aren't a common feature in the clothing here. If she doesn't learn to adapt, it'll be too easy to lose a pouch of gold coins from her person,  _if_  she ever gets any.

"Let's get you fitted for some armor first," Jameson says as the crowds thin a bit at the wider docks before the apparent shops. "This is the Zakera District." He motions with his hand at storefronts with wooden signs hanging at their doors, each with foreign text or, in many cases, simply symbols in place of any kind of store name or designation. "I know a blacksmith that'll be perfect …. He's pretty fast when you have the coin too."

"And do we have the coin?" Jana raises a brow and he grins.

"For this?  _Bestemt_!" He holds out his hands with a proud nod. Jerking his head in instruction to follow, he starts to make his way down the path in obvious search of this blacksmith's shop. Arriving at a shop with nothing but an anvil and crossed hammers on its hanging sign, he makes a triumphant sound and grabs the latch for the door and glances at them. "Here we are, 'The Battered Steel.'"

"Uh," Jana starts, giving him a nervous smile when he lifts a brow. "No offense, but saying something's 'battered' in the title doesn't really sound too appealing if we're looking for good armor."

Jameson laughs as he holds open the door for them. "You're right! But I don't trust anyone else that isn't a damn  _stolt_." He steps into the shop behind the rest of them and calls out while Jana blinks to try to get her eyes to adjust to the darker room. "Girr! Where are you, you  _oppfostre_?"

"Who wants to know?" calls a clear krogan voice from deeper in the shop and the sound of heavy footsteps is heard approaching. Stepping in through a doorway is a massive, green plated krogan with one white, blind eye that contrasts his other, golden one. He wears nothing from the waist up, leaving his scarred chest bare to see where he's had what looks like burns - most likely from his forge - too damaging for even his healing factor to repair. "Jameson," he growls, almost sounding annoyed. "What are you doing back here? Did you lose my armor because I know damn well it isn't damaged. Nothing breaks my armor."

Jameson laughs, the sound boisterous as he grins and approaches the counter between him and the krogan. "Of course not! What am I, some idiot who doesn't know good craftsmanship when he sees it?" Shaking his head, he steps aside and holds a hand out towards Jana. "I'm looking for some armor for my friend here. And we need it fast."

Girr raises a brow, humming incredulously. "You know I can't just pull armor outta my cloaca …. I need time to make something worth wearing  _my_  name."

Jameson gives a knowing grin, his teeth shining in the lantern light as he leans an elbow on the counter. "Gold says that feat just may be possible …."

Interest piqued, the krogan matches Jameson's posture. "How much we talkin'?"

"Five hundred gold-"

"Seven-fifty," Girr interjects and Jameson makes an exaggerated, put-out sound.

"Seven-fifty? You're going to rob me blind, ya  _stolt_!" Still, he hums when all he gets in response is a grunt, thinking a moment before he leans on the counter again. "Alright … seven and you have it done by tomorrow, sundown."

Girr grumbles in the back of his throat, standing up and scratching his bare stomach. He growls to himself for a few moments before letting out a deep, raspy sigh. "Fine …. Seven hundred gold and you give me until sundown.  _Sundown_ , dammit," he says, pointing a clawed finger at Jameson, then the other three in the room. "Not before."

Grinning in victory, Jameson nods. "Done! Now" he says, finally turning to Jana and giving a jerk of his head towards Girr. "Don't let his good nature scare you, he's really just playing the  _oppfostre_."

"One day you're going to have to explain what all these words mean," Jana says with a huff, not sure what exactly she's going to need to do to be measured up for armor. Usually, there's a scanner to do all the work, but it's obvious that it won't be so easy. "What do you need me to do?"

"Stand over here where I can see," Girr says, coming around the counter and pointing at a spot directly in the light and reaching into the pocket of the heavy leather apron tied around his waist. He fetches what looks like a tailor's ruler, though it seems made of leather punched at various sections instead of printed, as well as a piece of chalk.

Following his instruction, Jana moves into position and holds out her hands, letting the krogan begin taking his measurements. She almost feels like she's being fitted for clothing instead of armor, but figures she'd rather have perfectly fitting armor than any manner of attire that'd be useless in a fight. She watches out of the corner of her eye as Girr makes notes on the rough wood of his counter, taking note of just exactly all that he plans to match to her specifications. Finally, the krogan steps away from her and turns his attention to his numbers, waving her away.

"Go …. I have what I need." He grumbles, a rough sound rumbling in his throat as he makes some tick marks on the wood. "What kind of armor are we lookin' for?"

"Well …."

Jameson steps forward and lays a hand on Jana's shoulder. "We want protection, but maneuverability. She doesn't need a full set, but she will be in combat …. I think she'd be better with a gambeson than a true chest plate."

Girr raises a brow and looks to Jana. "You trust him to get you right?"

Shrugging with a nervous chuckle, Jana swallows. "Uh …. I don't really know anything I'll need, so yeah, I'll go with his choice. He knows what he's doing," she adds, hoping to win Jameson over. She knows her James Vega knew his stuff, so she has confidence Jameson knows his and, judging by his genuine smile, she feels like maybe she's a step closer to warming the air between them.

"Alright, fine …. I'll talk to Sephone about it." Heading towards the doorway to the back of his shop, he waves them away. "Get out of here so I can get to work …. Damn rebobs," he mutters and Jameson laughs as he leads the rest of the group towards the door.

"You'll do great work!  _Maker velsigne deg_!" Jameson calls out with a raised hand cupping the side of his mouth, grinning at Jana and Tali when Girr yells back something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


	5. Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms**
> 
> _Takk -_ 'Thanks'

Getting dressed in between bites of her breakfast, Jana realizes that this may be the first time she’s ever had food not produced artificially in one way or another. It’s funny to her how complacent she was in her past life with the fact that machines produced the majority of either all or most of her food because she never really considered just what she may be missing until this very morning upon finding a small tray of food set outside the door of their room at the local inn Jon set herself and Tali in for the night.

While simple in concept, the breakfast of all real ingredients - a soft boiled egg, some thick slices of bacon, a wedge of cheese, toasted and still warm bread, blackberry fruit preserves, honey, and steaming mint tea - had to have been the best thing Jana’s ever eaten. It’s even better than the first meal after her rigorous N-training sequestered out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a few rations and what she and her fellow trainees could find in the wilderness. Everything here tasted better than she had ever imagined when she used to watch the old vids, each ingredient showing clear signs of painstaking work into preparing. 

_ Someone even picked all the seeds out of the blackberries …. If only Tali could taste it! _

She knows she’s quite the show juggling between stuffing food into her face while it’s still hot and getting dressed if Tali’s muffled snickers are anything to go by, but Jana doesn’t give a damn. With food this good, she’d get out on the streets of the Zakera District docks and dance a jig with what little clothing she’s managed to pull on if they asked her.

“ _ Keelah _ , you’re going to fall,” Tali says with a snort when Jana loses her footing while pulling her pants up.

Flexing her lips a few times to maneuver the last bit of bacon into her mouth,  Jana frees both of her hands to pull up the soft brown pants she had found the day before when Liara took her to the clothing merchants in the district. She had tried to find something like a bra, but the dark green tunic she’s picked out is sure to be enough thanks to the ties up the sides she can use to create a tighter, more supportive fit around the contours of her torso. 

“I really wish you could taste this,” she says as she steals a bite of toast with a hefty amount of delicious preserves smeared across it before pulling on the tunic over her head and folding its deep collar over her shoulders and upper chest. It frees her hands once more to grab another bite before washing it down with some tea. “I might even be able to forget about coffee with breakfasts like this.”

Tali hums as she plucks the handwritten note that they had found settled on top of the tray from where Jana had tucked it between the jars of preserves and honey. It’s from the innkeeper, letting them know that Jon’s paid the tab and expects them at the Normandy when they’re done, but not much else. Still, though, it interests Tali enough that Jana raises a brow at her friend’s intense scrutiny.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t written in Standard … but we still know what it says ….”

“Of course it is,” Jana says with a scoff, taking the note when Tali offers it with a skeptical tsk of her own. “What else would it be ….”

Frowning in confusion, Jana pauses completely to read the note over again and try to pick apart the reasons why she and Tali can understand it when the text clearly doesn’t match anything she’s ever seen before. 

Back home, Standard consisted of geometric symbols that always seemed more like the programming of a computer than the written language of a galaxy. She knows most of its structure came from the asari with some additions from the salarians, but the script on this piece of parchment is so much different from the one she knows. Seemingly … looser and more organic in the way the curving symbols are written.

Yet, she and Tali are able to read and understand it so easily that it felt like second nature. Their minds didn’t even comprehend that it’s different than what they knew was Standard for their reality. It’s almost as if they’ve gained an innate knowledge of this text the moment they were thrown into this world, but she has no idea how that’s possible.

“So …. You think we might know other things in this place that we don’t  _ think  _ we know?” Jana asks, handing the note back to her friend so she can finish getting ready.

She isn’t sure of the time, but the sun’s already up and she knows she definitely managed to get more sleep than any of the nights spent on the Normandy thanks to the wonders of a somewhat actual bed. Even if it was made of what she’s sure is straw wrapped in the fabric of the ‘mattress,’ the bed in the inn came with the feeling of solid ground, which did wonders to finally wash away the last traces of her seasickness.

By the time Tali’s wrapped her own clothing - long pieces of colorful fabric that reminds Jana of a sari by the way it’s designed to be wrapped around the body - around her waist, draped across her shoulder, and over her hood to better hide her mask , there’s a knock at the door of their room. They share a glance to ensure they’re both dressed and ready for any manner of guests before Jana goes to the door and pulls it open to the sight of  Jameson, actually dressed in a long black tunic beneath his thick fur cloak instead of being barechested like yesterday.

“Jameson?” Jana raises her brows in surprise. “I thought Jon wanted us to meet at the Normandy?” She chuckles nervously, unsure if they might have done something wrong - slept in late and kept Jon from important business or broken some rule about their stay at the inn going past some cutoff time and costing Jon more money than he intended. “We were just about to leave-”

“Uh …. Yeah,” Jameson says, rubbing the back of his neck as he offers a sort of anxious smile. “We were actually expecting you a long time ago. Jon’s already at the hearing with the Council, so we better hurry if we’re going to catch the Council’s final word.”

“Shit ….” Jana rushes to the bed and stuffs her things in the leather satchel they bought for her to use as a bag for the night here at the inn. “I’m sorry …. We had no idea ….” She shoulders the bag and offers an apologetic smile and nervous huff. “I guess I really lost track of time in a bed that wasn’t swaying in the ocean.”

Jameson chuckles and steps aside to let the two women step out of the room. “It’s alright. I’m sure it’s still a big change from your realm. It just means we need to pull a favor from someone Jon knows.”

“A favor?” Tali gives Jana and obviously dubious look from beneath her silver and deep aqua hood. “H ow will that get us to … the Tower, right? Isn’t that all the way in the  _ center  _ of the Citadel?”

As they exit out into the bustling docks of the Zakera District, Jameson jerks his head towards the Citadel as he hurries them down the long bridge dividing it from the district. “See those walls?” He points, motioning over the outer wall of the large city. “They also divide the Citadel into its districts. The Citadel Guard uses it to traverse the city and keep an eagle’s view over the districts …. Jon knows the Commander of the Guard of the Zakera Docks. He can get us access to the walls and we can be at the Tower in no time.”

“Works for me,” Tali says and Jana nods in agreement, though it’s only her friend that can probably see the gesture because, for the most part, they’ve got their full attention on Jameson’s back so as not to lose him in the crowd.

“These walls sound pretty restricted though ….”

“Hey, don’t doubt Jon’s ability to make friends out of everyone on this side of the Tartarus,” Jameson shouts now that they’re rushing through the thick of the crowds. 

He only slows when a sight of a man comes into view, clad in white armor with golden accents and a flowing cape with a depiction of the Tower with a sun blazing at its crown. Jana doesn’t immediately know if she recognizes the man as a different version of someone in her own reality, and nearly comes to the conclusion that she doesn’t until Jameson calls out to him.

“Commander Bailey!” Jameson waves his massive arm to catch the man’s attention as they approach.

Jana would have never imagined seeing the C-Sec Captain turned leader of the Citadel Embassies’ security force with a thick beard, his hair similarly shaved along the sides as her universe but with his dark blonde hair braided into a thick weave that runs down the center of his head to stop just level with his ears. He looks confused at first by the approaching group, looking over the three with a hesitant narrowing of his eyes and laying a hand on the butt of his sword at his hip, as if in silent warning.

“Commander,” Jameson says as he comes to a stop before the man and stiffens his back in respect. “My name is Jameson and I’m with Jon Shepard’s crew-”

“Ah,” Bailey says, removing his hand from his sword and giving a slight nod. “He told me I might be seeing you …. Said you’d be late to something if I did,” he adds with a slight huff as he glances between Jameson, Jana, and Tali. “Who are your friends? More of Shepard’s crew?”

Jana opens her mouth but pauses at her own introduction because she’s not quite sure if Jon considers her part of his crew just yet or is waiting for her and Tali to show what they’re capable of, if they can be of use in this fight.

“Jon didn’t mention them? They are meant to join me to the Presidium.” Jameson lifts his chin, seemingly preparing to defend his claim.

Bailey hums, still looking the two women over before he gives another slight nod. “No, he told me …. Just imagined something different.” Turning back to Jameson, he lifts a thick brow. “And I expect you’re going to be asking me to do something that’s not within the law.”

Jameson grins at that exact answer. “Aye, sir …. As I said, we need to get to the Presidium and you know the Districts aren’t exactly the fastest way of getting there.”

Bailey lets out a drawn-out, almost exasperated breath as he shifts to glance sideways towards the Citadel. “Of course I do …. And I expect you’re going to ask if you can get access to the Walls.” He shifts his gaze to Jameson, a brow raised and hums in his throat when Jameson gives a nod. “The Walls … that are restricted ….”

“I figure you’d be the one to ask … and that if anyone would do a favor for Jon’s crew ….”

“I get what you’re saying,” Bailey interrupts, stopping Jameson’s lead-in with a rumble to his voice and a raised hand. “Alright … but  _ only  _ because I owe Jon quite the debt for helping me and  _ only  _ because he told me I might be expecting you.”  Facing the Citadel completely with a flourish of his cape , he starts at a brisk pace, waving a hand to follow. “Come on. If you’re late for whatever Jon’s up to, we better get you movin’.”

Jameson throws Jana a victorious grin before jogging to catch up, Jana and Tali at his heels. “Many thanks for the help, Commander.”

“Yeah, yeah ….” Guiding them all the way across the bridge to the massive, wooden Citadel gates, Bailey stops and diverts them to the tower on the left side of the gate. “This’ll get you up to the Wall. I expect you know how to walk them to get to the Presidium.” Opening the tall wooden door to the darkened, lantern-lit tower, he jerks his head to go on. “Just give them my order to let you pass if anyone stops you.”

Jameson lets Jana and Tali enter and start their way up the winding, stone stairs before turning back to Bailey to yell down. “ _ Takk _ , Commander! I’m sure Jon’ll send his thanks!”

The only response is the slam of the heavy door, the sound echoing through the tower as it climbs up the winding staircase around them. Jana can’t be sure how many steps they take before she’s arriving at the apparent top of the tower where a door stands and, at its right, a small, vertical aperture that lets in a bit of natural light to illuminate the small landing. She doesn’t wait to open the door so that the three of them don’t bunch up on the landing of the stairwell - that she pointedly realizes has no built-in railing or other preventative from falling. 

_ That’d be a bad way to go …. Or at least a sure way to get some badly broken bones. And I have no clue just how good their medical treatments can really be without a simple x-ray. _

Jana shields her eyes with her arm, blinking away the slight sting of the sun, and Jameson steps forward, bumping her in silent encouragement to keep moving. Tali’s right behind him as he breaks into a brisk jog and Jana only takes a moment to glance over the battlement’s wall to look down at the sandstone colored slate of the city’s rooftops. Citizens look small enough that she’s unable to place species, but she can tell that heights vary drastically in comparison to her reality where it seemed that either evolution unintentionally created uniformity or had possibly had something to do with altering effects of space travel.

No one stops them as they run along the outer wall and turn down one of the long walls dividing the districts. In fact, no one really seems to be on the walls, but Jana is sure that the shorter towers that break off from the sides of the wall must be where guards are standing. She’s watched enough movies to make the assumption that they’ve taken to a slightly higher ground to overlook the city and, to add to that, she thinks it’d make much more sense than sticking to the more level ground of the initial walls.

She sees images in her mind of guards armed with bows and crossbows standing at attention for anyone stupid enough to try doing what she, Tali, and Jameson are doing without actual permission. That, and if someone with a death wish were to attempt an attack on the Citadel or its dividing walls, a higher advantage point and skilled archers could easily subdue them quickly and leave the city guard on the ground able to handle the rest.

Catching up with the others at a tower like the one they climbed up, Jana lets out a quick breath at surprise and awe at the apparent sight of the Presidium. Encircled by the walls of the Citadel’s districts is the massive Tower, its shadow thrown down against the city like that of a sundial. Moats with actual drawbridges divide the actual districts from a smaller circle of what looks like the high spires of temples and dwellings of the obvious higher class citizens. Within this ring is an avenue around beautiful gardens and pathways cutting through them to the base of the Tower.

_ This inner circle is like a city in and of itself …. And it can be isolated with a simple order to draw up the bridges …. _

“This place is beautiful,” Tali says as she nods and follows Jameson’s hurried wave.

“Maybe even more than our Presidium.” Jana gives the view one last look over before entering the guard tower behind Tali, taking the steps two at a time thanks to the seemingly physical weight of Jameson’s urgency. 

Not that she really blames him for reminding them they’re in a hurry because it certainly takes a hell of a lot longer than in her reality to walk - jog - across the Citadel even when they don’t have to deal with the crowds. Back home, Jana had skycars to travel through the station, but here, she has to rely on her own two legs and stamina. 

_ Thank you, Alliance endurance training … and quite literally half my life spent out in the field. _

It’s when they finally reach the base of the Tower that an asari and salarian in the same armor as Commander Bailey stops them. Holding out her hand, the towering -  _ she has to be at least seven foot -  _ asari steps forward and holds out a hand, stern glare in her indigo eyes and a slight curl of her lip at the look of them.

“Halt,” she says, her voice deeper than a typical - from Jana’s universe and compared to Liara, anyway - asari as she drops her hand to cross it over her chest plate. “Where do you think you’re going, exactly?”

Almost as tall as her, the asari’s salarian partner nods firmly from his post at the side of the archway. “Access to the Tower is limited to dignitaries and high Guard only when not hailed by the Embassies or Council themselves.”

Jameson lays a hand on both Jana and Tali’s shoulders as he steps forward. “We are of the crew of the Normandy, Captained by Captain Jon Shepard of King Stephan Hackett’s Alliance. Captain Shepard is currently addressing the Council and we’re to be there,” he says, motioning himself and Jana and Tali behind him. “I’m sure there’s been some kind of word left behind to let us pass?”

The two guards exchange glances and the salarian gives his partner a slight nod. With the asari reclaiming her place at her side of the open archway and pointedly moving her attention away from the three before her to scan over the Presidium avenue, the salarian matches her posture by crossing his own arms and jerking his head aside towards the door.

“Hurry in. And  _ don’t  _ cause any trouble or you’ll have the  _ Council _ guard to deal with,” he says with a slight smirk as if actually looking forward to that.

“We only mean to listen in on our superior,” Jameson says with a daring grin. “We don’t exactly have weapons, so it’s not like we’d make much trouble if we were even stupid enough to try - and don’t these two ladies look quite the opposite?” He holds one hand for Jana and Tali to pass him and enter the tall arch of the Tower doorway and the other to the two guards. “I think my companions are quite the scholars in their own. The University would be jealous!”

He backs away from the doorway a few steps while the guards refuse to answer. Walking backward behind Jana and Tali, he waits a moment before he huffs and his shoulders slump. “ _ Maker _ , I’m surprised that went as well as it did,” he says, turning on his heel and smiling at the two. “Looks like this face can sway even the stiffest city guard.”

Jana chuckles, letting him lead through the surprisingly well-lit Tower main hall that creates the outer circle of the Tower’s interior with archways leading both deeper inward as well as back out into the Presidium . It’s floors of marbled stones glimmer with what Jana can swear looks like flecks of gold and its walls are covered in tapestries, paintings, and well kept for weapons and shields with intricate designs either made into their very shape or painted on well enough she could be fooled into thinking it’s been done by machine.

Coming to the foot of stone stairs climbing along the curved inner wall of this hall that must take visitors upwards through the Tower, Jameson turns to Jana and Tali. Jana is sure that within this wall are actual rooms for the embassies and dignitaries the guards had mentioned.  If it’s anything like the Citadel Tower from her universe, then this entire thing must be bustling with politicians and people of high standing just behind the scenes. 

“We’ll be forever climbing to the top where the Council holds court,” he says, his voice lowered as he lays a hand on the carved wood of the stair railing. “Luckily, there’s a machine that can take us up. It’s the most advanced thing in all of Alysim.” He puts a finger to his lips before waving to follow. “The scholars are said to have spent near a century to build it,” he says softly as if to not disturb those within the Tower as they walk deeper into its circular design of halls and rooms.

“And they’ll just let us use it?” Tali asks, her voice lowered to match his, but her head moving all about as she takes in the Tower’s lower floor. Jana’s sure Tali is just like her in trying to imagine just how much more detailed and opulent the higher floors will be. “Won’t they give us an even  _ harder  _ time?”

“Surprisingly? Not as much as you’d think,” Jameson says with a smile as he brings them to a room that Jana feels is close to the center of the Tower. Gripping the golden handle of the door, he scratches his neck nervously. “I just gotta … talk the Doyen to let us use it ….”

Jana raises a brow in sudden skepticism of Jameson’s ability to sweet talk some high official. It’s not that she doesn’t think Jameson’s a smart man - he hasn’t given her any reason to doubt him - but if the Guard was as suspicious of them as they were, then what’s someone whose sole job is to tend to the higher class of citizen going to think when the three ragtag people enter the room asking to use some advanced, highly prized machine? The Guard is probably more used to the average citizen - she thinks if they are rotated much like C-Sec was in her universe - but this Doyen, whatever that is, may not even know what an average citizen even  _ looks  _ like with a job in such an overly extravagant place.

When the door opens into a large room with bustling men and women in long gowns in colors from light taupe to slightly off and pure white with gold detailing much like the vids’ depictions of those of higher intelligence instead of physical prowess. A salarian in a bright white robe, their horns covered in a hood with a golden hem that shines in the light, hurriedly moves to intercept the three from coming closer to what looks suspiciously like the open-air compartment of an elevator.

Jana doesn’t think elevators were really invented anywhere close to the type of historical period so similar to this reality, but she can easily tell that the goldened-barred caged compartment with long, thick chains rising straight up the entirety of the Tower and into a massive cog against the far wall must make some kind of lift system. There are carvings in the metal of the entire mechanism, even in the chains and they glow faintly with shimmering, shifting colors and she has a feeling that this construction relies on magic as well as physics, which could explain the reason why such an advanced - seemingly for this reality - machine can exist and function well enough that they entrust the heads of their government to be safe using it.

“Who are you?” The salarian asks, her voice sharp as she gives them no time to actually answer her interrogation. “What are you doing here? Who let you in the Tower? Under whose permission? Guards!” She jerks her head around, looking for someone to apparently remove them from not only the room but perhaps the Tower itself.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jameson says in a rush, holding his hands up to catch her attention. “Madam Doyen, we’re here under the orders of Alliance Captain Jon Shepard.” He drops his hands and stiffens his back, clearing his throat. “I think you’ll know him better as  _ Templar  _ Jon Shepard.”

“ _ Former  _ Templar Jon Shepard,” she says, her tone mimicking Jameson’s as she huffs. “Yes, he was here recently to see the Council.”

“So you must know he was expecting me and my companions. We’re … unfortunately very late.”

“I see … or you’d be using the steps same as anyone else ….” The salarian huffs and looks back at the ‘machine’ before giving Jameson a side glance. She narrows her eyes and examines the three a moment before sighing. “Alright,” she says, flipping her hand as she turns to the machine and begins to motion some of the others in robes around the room. “I’ll only allow this because I feel I owe Captain Shepard, if only by extension. I was in the Presidium Gardens when Saren’s geth attacked,” she explains as she steps to a podium of sorts, strange carvings on its surface. “If not for him appearing out of nowhere to defeat the geth searching the Gardens, I wouldn’t be here.” Looking to her men attending the large cog and seemingly getting into position to activate it, she gives a nod and turns to one beside the elevator. “Let them in.”

A human man in a darker tan robe dips his head before pulling open the golden gate of the elevator. Waving them on, he steps inside after them and pulls the door closed. That seems to be the signal for the others because the Doyen gives a jerk of her head and starts to trace her fingers along the carvings in the stone before her and the others at the cog push and pull on its chains to get it started moving.

The elevator jerks slightly when it initially gets started, but it otherwise rises with a decent amount of steadiness. At least, it’s more than Jana expected when she saw the thing and first thought of it as an unpredictable death trap. Even though she can’t see his face, the man’s posture tells her enough of his confidence in the machine as they ride it higher and higher up the central chamber of the Tower.

“Don’t worry,” the man says without turning around and Jana notices Jameson release a breath as if he’d been holding it without her noticing, “This machine is the shining achievement of the Imperial University. Not that we haven’t given Eros plenty of other advancements, but  _ this  _ is something even the Protheans don’t seem to have had.”

The pride radiating off of the man seems to ease Jameson some and Jana gives the bigger man a concerned raise of her brows. Obviously, Jameson doesn’t trust it, probably hasn’t been on an elevator in his entire life, and perhaps has a bit of fear in the seemingly otherworldly technology. She shifts over to bump her arm to his in silent solidarity, though doesn’t speak of her own fear of heights, thankful that she’s in a spot on the elevator where its flooring is large enough to block her view in all directions unless she actively goes looking for a glimpse at the bottom of the vertical tunnel.

Jameson glances her way and smiles, a bit of appreciation in his expression, and she smiles back. Something about having him on one side and Tali on the other helps some with her feeling of weightlessness and the nagging feeling of just how high they’re going. Their presence helps a hell of a lot more than the nameless man’s assurances, anyway.

The slowing of the elevator’s climb is a bit more unsteady as the lift-off and Jana’s hands snap to Tali and Jameson on each side, gripping their arms as if it’d protect her if the lift’s floor suddenly plummeted from beneath her feet. Tali hums softly, covering Jana’s hand and Jana forces herself to loosen her grip on Jameson so as not to make the man uncomfortable. They may have bonded a bit the day previous, but she can tell there’s still a lot of question and hesitance between them. She doesn’t blame him for it, knowing she’d have the same feelings if she were in his shoes, and she doesn’t want to break that building acceptance with some inappropriate grabbing and clawing at him in a fear that’s slowly easing as they elevator finally stops.

“This is where we get off,” Jameson jokes lightly, a nervousness to his voice as he steps closer to the man as if to urge him into opening the door.

The man either doesn’t seem to notice or does and just doesn’t care as he takes his time unlatching and slowly opening the gated door. He stands in the way for just a split second that Jana can swear Jameson is silently cursing over before finally stepping aside.

“I don’t imagine Doyen Neyori will allow you three to use the Conveyor without proper orders-”

“Well, that’s fine,” Jameson says, hands on Tali and Jana’s backs to rush them out of the lift. He drops them as soon as they step onto the solid ground of the stone landing and gives a quick, yet hesitant glance back at the elevator. “We’ll walk next time …. No rush then ….”

The man merely hums, the sound almost skeptical of the idea of using  _ stairs  _ to get down when there’s their elevator to use. 

_ I sure as hell know  _ **_I_ ** _ trust the stairs more than that damn death trap waiting to happen. Century in the making or not, I still have my doubts about a medieval elevator run by nothing but hopes in magic and a pulley and chain system. _

“Come on,” Jameson says quietly, heading to the door that’ll take them out to whatever lies outside of this inner room. Letting Jana and Tali take the first step into the hall, he clears his throat once he secures the door behind him. “Let’s not do that again ….”

“Agreed,” Jana says and Tali joins her in giving an agreeing nod. “ _ Jesus _ , I hate heights.”

“I’m not so bothered by them, but  _ that  _ was something I don’t really want to do every day.” Tali takes up the rear as Jameson leads them back out to the outer hall where stairs that lead upwards begin on the landing. “Do the stairs  _ really  _ come all the way up?”

“Oh yeah, there are stairs from the ground to the Council’s Chambers.” Jameson starts up the stairs, taking two at a time, though not as in much of a hurry as before it seems. “The stairs level out for each level of the Tower’s floors, but they start back up again just a ways around the curve. There are guards at the entrance to this level, though ….”

When they all step up that top step, they come face to face with a set of ornate double doors seeming to be made of pure gold.  Two asari guards in majorly gold armor with few white accents - an opposite design to the Citadel Guard down below - hold spears at their sides and don’t look down from a spot on the far wall as Jameson leads Jana and Tali forward.

“Council Guard,” Jameson greets with a steady voice and dip of his head. “We’re here for the Council hearing with Alliance Captain Jon Shepard and Master Liara T’Soni.”

“They’re still in session,” one of the asari says, her eyes still hyper-focused on the opposite wall. “Enter.”

Jameson gives Jana a glance, clearly out of his element in this place where it seems only the elite of the elite are allowed. She shrugs slightly, unsure herself even though, in her time, she’s seen the Council and been in their Chambers plenty of times. Hell, when she first became Spectre, she had free access to the Chambers. So much so that she was comfortable enough in the area and knew its possible cover available to try and talk Saren down in their final confrontation like the back of her hand.

_ I’m still not sure if I failed or succeeded there …. He ended up taking his own life of his own free will, but not before letting Sovereign in to attack the Citadel. Not after all the hell he gave me chasing him around the galaxy and trying to save people left in his wake. _

They enter into a large chamber room, the roof either made of skylights or open to let the sun shine in on a garden of trees that ran along the center of the staircase leading towards where she could hear the Council at session. The white trees’ pale red leaves whisper as they rustle softly, some breaking off to float down and collect at the trees’ base. Jana can hear the slight babbling of the brook that weaves between the trees in this small garden as they climb the stairs, passing listeners to the hearing as they stand in small groups about the stairs and its few landings.

“Without guarantee that this ‘device’ of yours will work, of  _ how  _ it works, we cannot grant you the necessary aid you’re requesting,” Jana hears an asari voice say.

Climbing to a landing just below where Jon and Liara stand before the familiar Council, Jana and the others stop to listen in without drawing attention away from Jon’s plight. She frowns at the atmosphere of the room despite the attempt  at calm between everyone with how the room is designed around a pond setting the Council apart from the rest of the room. The soft sounds of the pond is like a disorganized symphony of disappointment and failure as she rubs her brow, a headache forming at hearing the same damn thing here as was told to her.

She knows how it ended for her Council and she can’t see any possibility of anything different coming to pass unless Jon can pull a miracle out of his sleeve.

“Council, please,” Jon says, his voice assured as he crosses his hands at the small of his back and lifts his chin.  His long jacket sways slightly as he takes a step forward on the flat platform meant for those addressing the Council. “If we wait, it will be too late. We must band together …. The Reapers plan to divide us, weaken us so that we are easy to overcome, but we can stop that. Right here, right now. I just need aid for the King in constructing the Crucible.”

“How can we justify taking soldiers from our homelands, from protecting our people, to join in this alliance of yours when you don’t even know how this Crucible will work?” The turian councilor says, but his next words fall silent in Jana’s ears as she truly sees what this world’s turians  _ really look like _ .

_ Holy crap, they are  _ **_huge_ ** _ and … and … and  _ **_wings_ ** _? _

She jerks her gaze to Tali to see if her friend is seeing what she’s seeing and the stunned look in her friend’s wide eyes tells her everything.

These turians truly are giants … with  _ wings _ .

His body itself stands around the same height as the asari Jana’s been seeing around the Citadel, but he has  _ massive  _ wings tucked up at his back. Even folded up as they are, she can tell his wingspan could be close to thirty feet. They add a good two feet to his overall height, making him seem to tower over the other species as he shifts, the natural light glistening off of the gold collar around his cowl. 

His cape sways as he turns slightly to his fellow Councilors and draws in his mandibles.  “Why didn’t this work for the Protheans?”

The salarian Councilor nods and tucks his hands into the long sleeves of his red robe. “Yes, if the Protheans left us the plans for this device, then certainly they would have used it, found this ‘Catalyst.’”

Jon and Liara, just like Jana and her Liara back in the other reality, have no answer and Jana can see Jon visible swallow down his disappointment.  Liara - dressed in a type of body-snug, golden tunic that covers from her shoulders, across her breasts, and down the center of her belly to disappear within a slightly sheer skirt of yellow that fades into green and pools around her bare feet - clasps her hands together and tries once more.

“Councilors,” she says, eyes locking on the asari Councilor’s dark slate ones that match her hooded dress beneath a light cream shawl, a golden flower crown settled just across her forehead and around her crests. “P lease,” Liara tries with a frown before glancing at the other two alien Councilors before looking to Councilor Udina in a dark brown and slate tunic with gold stripes crisscrossing across his chest and lining the collar of his slate robe. “This will work. We can construct the Crucible as we search for the answer to the Catalyst. We must work together.”

“They’re right,” Udina pleads. “The Reapers are already assaulting Terra. My people are in need ….”

“Word has it that they’ve attacked Palaven as well,” the turian Councilor, Sparatus if Jana remembers correctly, interjects. “If your King wishes for aid, then my people demand the same.”

“And for that, we cannot allow.” The asari Councilor, Tevos in Jana’s universe, lifts her chin and squares her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Captain, but our people come first. As much as you and Councilor Udina wish it were untrue, the harsh reality is that while the Reapers are attacking Terra and the human people, our people are given time to prepare.”

Even Sparatus seems to take the words as a hit as his mandibles twitch and he looks away, his head still but eyes diverting from everyone to focus on the colorful fish lazily swimming within the pond at his feet.  Jon, though, does drop his head as the salarian Councilor - Valern, if the others are true - agrees and calls for a close to this hearing.

Jana lets out a long, tired breath as she watches Jon and Liara take their leave, Jon still managing to show enough respect to make eye contact and dip his head while Liara mirrors him, though only slightly. He takes a few steps back before turning as a true Alliance soldier would no matter the world. Face an emotionless mask, he climbs down the stairs and leads the others towards the lower levels of the Chambers. 

Jana frowns, biting her lip at words she can’t think of to say to assuage the others’ disappointment. It won’t really help to say that her own talk with the Council went much the same. All she can hope for is that someone can step forward to help where there was no one in her universe.

“I can’t believe they can’t see why we need to work together,” Jameson finally says, crossing his arms with a scowl as he looks aside, almost avoiding Jon and Liara’s gazes.

Jon lets out a deep breath through his nose, solemn in his expression, but the true hurt and worry in his eyes shining bright. “I don’t blame them,” he says, shocking the other man, and nods at the incredulous question in Jameson’s eyes. “They’re scared …. They’re thinking of what their people must think, of what will keep their people safe ….”

“You mean complacent,” Jameson says with a scoff.

“Looks like you need someone with some actual pull around here,” a voice calls.

A voice that makes Jana’s blood run cold and heart stop when a sharp blade stabs straight through her chest. 

_ It’s  _ **_Him_ ** _ …. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


	6. Atheling Garrus Vakarian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
> _Salve -_ 'Greetings'
> 
>  _Dominae_  - Basically 'My Lady.' A word of respect typically meant for a higher class females

No one but Tali realizes how Jana stiffens, her eyes widened and glistening as she swallows down her emotions when Jon’s Garrus climbs the steps.

_ He’s … beautiful …. So unmarred and with that cocky grin I haven’t seen in so long …. _

_ He’s not  _ **_your_ ** _ Garrus. You have to remember that …. He doesn’t even know who  _ **_you_ ** _ are …. _

She gives her head a slight shake, dropping it to clench her eyes against the guilt. Of course, this turian coming to join them isn’t  _ her  _ Garrus. Her husband is dead, nothing more than a memory and ring around her neck. She reaches for it, laying a hand on her tunic over where it lay and gives an apology to  _ her  _ Garrus, shame thick in her blood as she trembles slightly with the effort to center herself enough to lift her head, look this Garrus in the eye, and let the inevitable introductions pass.

“Garrus!” Jon grins at his obvious friend -  _ of course, Garrus is a friend. He was my best friend before my lover so why would it be any different for Jon?  _ \- and joins the  _ very  _ tall version of Garrus as he takes the final step up onto their level. 

The two exchange a firm clasp of forearms in greeting and Jana frowns at the sheer happiness in Garrus’ face at seeing Jon. They look like brothers seeing each other after a long time, and of partners ready to step into hell together and deal with whatever trouble that may come.

_ Just like mine …. _

Clad in a tunic that drapes in an asymmetrical design of layers across his chest and fades from silver to dark gray and extends longer at his back than the front, this Garrus is easily a bit over seven foot with wings the color of his silver plates and tawny hide that add an additional two feet to his imposing figure. The multitude of clasps running up his tall boots glimmer in the sunlight, but what really catches Jana’s eye is the large, crystal clear, blue jewel pinned to his tunic and blue, embroidered shawl draped over his fringe.

_ They’re the perfect color to match his face paints. _

_ And his face is so untouched, unscarred by physical and emotional pain …. _

“It’s so good to see you,” Jon says, his eyes full of genuine relief as he smiles up at the tall turian. “I won’t be able to do this without you.”

“Of course not. Anyone else watching your back will just be a pale comparison.” Garrus purrs in pride as he grins in response to Jon’s short, but amused laugh. “Plus, you take me into all the best battles.”

“Excuse me speaking out, but looking forward to ‘all the best battles’ is not the place for the Atheling of Palaven,” a silvery turian clad in full armor behind Garrus intercedes, his back ramrod straight as he lifts his chin and tucks his hands behind his back.

Garrus’ vocals buzz in obvious annoyance as he flicks his mandibles and glances at the other turian, one of three dressed in black, almost draconic armor with blue incorporated in small sections and a long, dark blue cloak. Jana imagines they are some kind of guard by their uniformity, only the female wearing what looks like a bit of a lighter grade armor so that robes can be incorporated around her waist and legs as well as a deep hood that almost entirely covers her aubergine-colored plates. A crooked staff sits on her back while the other two - both males - have more physical weapons, the one speaking a long sword with a dragon’s head pommel and the other an axe with a similar dragon carved into its head.

“Severus,” Garrus starts with that low buzz of exasperation rolling through his vocals, “These are my friends, not some gawking dignitaries you need to try and intimidate with titles and pointless  _ tradition _ .” His vocals calm when the man huffs and Garrus hums in satisfaction as he turns back to Jon and the others.

Jon moves to speak, turning aside to hold a hand out towards Jana and Tali, but his voice is drowned out by the sheer weight of Garrus’ gaze as he takes Jana in. His mandibles flare just slightly and she swallows down that churning and rapid beating in her chest.

Stepping around Jon, Garrus thrums warmly and gives her a smile that makes her catch her breath. “ _ Salve _ ,” he purrs with a slight dip of his head as he stands before her. “My name is Garrus Vakarian of Cipritine. May I ask yours,  _ dominae _ ?”

She feels there’s a too long moment of silence in the room as everything focuses on just the two of them. Jana’s eyes search his beautiful, unscarred - and seemingly  _ so young _ \- features and she knows the sound coming from him, knows this between them is immediately more than a cordial greeting. Part of her perks up from its cold, dark hole it’s been hiding in for so long, but another, stronger part of her stamps it down just as suddenly.

_ Control yourself …. He isn’t yours. _

“Jana,” she says, swallowing quickly to moisten her dry mouth. “Jana Shepard ….”

“Jana,” he repeats, his vocals singing as he tilts his head slightly as if thinking the sound of her name over before smiling. “Shepard ….” He leaves the rest open in question and it’s then that Jon steps up to gain Garrus’ attention once more.

Smiling, Jon stands between Jana and Tali, motioning both. “Jana is joined by her dear friend Tali here. They are from another realm than our own,” he adds before Garrus can do more than hum in confusion. “We’re hoping that they may be able to offer some insight into fighting the Reapers because they were a similar war of their own.” He clears his throat and leaves Jana and Tali’s side, being sure to keep Garrus’ attention as he moves to Jameson. “Jameson here has been with me since Earth. He and Liara have seen first hand what the Reapers are doing to my homeland,” he says with a frown. “If you have any ideas, please, tell us.”

Garrus rumbles and nods. “I came here for my father, trying to do the same thing you were.” He scoffs and jerks his head towards the stairs that lead to the Council’s pedestals, now empty. “As you can imagine, I got the same answer. The Council isn’t willing to do anything,” he says with a growl of frustration, clicking his mandibles as he looks down to Jon. “They’re afraid and doing the only thing they know, hoping the Citadel will protect them.”

“We’re helping our people the only way we know how,” a voice interjects as Councilor Sparatus approaches from his previous side of the Chambers. “This is about keeping the entirety of Eros calm while we work to create our defenses. It would be a disaster if the people knew of the destruction the Reapers are bringing down upon the land.”

“They need to know. It was your damn duty to remind the Council of its goal of unity,  _ Councilor _ ,” Garrus says with irritation ringing through his vocals. “I came for aid and now Cipritine is under attack while you sit in your opulent Citadel.”

Councilor Sparatus pulls his mandibles tight to his jaw and it seems almost as if he’s chewing on his sharp remark, which is surprising to Jana because, in her reality, the Councilor wouldn’t take such attitude lightly. He was a stern man and quick to judge her every move and she never acted so ….

_ He’s hotheaded just like when we first met, so full of fire …. _

“You’d do well to watch your tone,  _ Atheling _ ,” The Councilor responds, his vocals like sandpaper as he holds back any further sign of offense. “You should still show respect no matter your place in the Hierarchy. If your father had come to the Council to request aid-”

“If my father had come, then Cipritine would be without its Primarch when the Reapers attacked.”

Jana’s mouth opens slightly in shock at the insinuations flying and she hears Tali lean over and whisper, “Primarch? Father?”

Councilor Sparatus is quiet a moment, proof that he sees the truth in Garrus’ words, but he finally speaks. “Your sister would have made a better prospect to convince the Council of the urgency ….”

Garrus obviously understands that the statement wasn’t directly intended for a response and flicks his mandible in what Jana remembers is a gesture very similar to a human eye roll as he looks away from the older turian back to Jon.

“Even my father didn’t think I’d be successful here,” he says, ignoring the Councilor scoff under his breath. “So we’ve planned for ways to go around the Council. I’ve already sent word to Palaven of what happened here when I had a hearing with the Council, but I had a feeling you’d be at the head of any efforts coming from Terra as soon as I heard of the Reapers’ attack,” he adds with a slight thrum of sympathy. “Good to know your King’s finally admitting you’re the only one who can fight this fight for the humans.”

“For everyone,” Jon corrects with a nod, scratching his jaw. “But I’m more interested in this plan of yours and your father’s.”

Garrus rumbles in understanding and motions to walk with him, leading the group down the stairs towards the large double doors out of the Chambers. “If the Council isn’t going to create an alliance, then it’s time to go to the heads of the peoples, appeal directly to the rulers.” His brow plates lower as he hums anxiously. “With the Reapers finally here, we need this now more than ever. We can’t stand to wait around for bureaucracy. We’d just be wading through mud around here.” He gives a quick glance over the group as one of his guards step before him to push open the doors. “I’m heading to Cipritine ….”

“This may prove very dangerous, Sir,” the female of his guard says with a concerned hum but he rumbles and shakes his head against her advised caution.

“I’m not sitting around while Reapers burn my home to the ground.” He growls, obviously imagining the state of his home.

Jana knows  _ her  _ reality’s Palaven took a huge hit when she looked down on it back on Menae. It was a horrible mess of destruction and fire, so she really worries just how easy it’ll be to find this Garrus’ Primarch, even if he’s apparently Garrus’ father.

“I’m with you,” Jon says with a hand on Garrus’ shoulder and a quick nod. “I don’t see any other way either, so if you have a plan, I’m with you.” He grins up at the hopeful Garrus who’s slowly matching his confidence with his own growing smirk. “Besides, you’re going to need some help getting to Cipritine.”

“Wouldn’t have anyone else,” Garrus says with a rumble.

“Captian Shepard,” calls an urgent, yet firm voice and the group turns back to see Councilor Sparatus climbing down the steps to catch them before closing the Chamber doors.

Immediately, Jon takes a respective stance, hands at his back and shoulders square. The others of the group look to each other in confusion but Garrus and his guards seem more intrigued by the hurried call for attention.

Stopping before Jon, Councilor Sparatus reaches to his long black and gold jacket and fetches a rolled up piece of parchment. “The Council has deemed it appropriate to return to you your Templar title and all the powers that come with it.”

Jon’s brows shoot up in surprise, but he takes the scroll and dips his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Councilor. It’s an honor to be considered one of the Council’s Templars once more.”

“And it’s not just a name without clout now,” Garrus adds with a rumble and quick glance to the Councilor. “People will listen to a Templar.”

Councilor Sparatus doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look to Garrus as he dips his head to Jon in goodbye before returning back into the Council Chambers. Garrus’ guard pushes the doors closed as Jon moves the rolled up scroll around in his hands, almost in awe.

“I don’t know why, but it feels like more of an honor this time ….”

Rumbling to get Jon’s attention, Garrus tilts his head in question to keep moving. “We’re doing more than chasing a rogue Templar now. That’s got to feel like something.”

Jameson huffs anxiously. “Yeah … like a whole lot of people are looking to you for this war.”

“Unfortunately,” Jon says, tucking the scroll into his naval jacket,  “I think that may be exactly what they’re looking for.” Steeling himself for a moment, Jon’s gaze is distant as he narrows his eyes slightly before returning to the others with a firm, confident nod. “And that’s what we’ll do. Because no one else can do what we can.”

“And we’ll find out the Catalyst,” Liara adds with only some of the same enthusiasm, obviously still concerned after the Council hearing.

Humming with confidence though, Garrus’ mandibles flare as he gives Jon that conspiring look Jana knows too well. “And we’ll drag them to victory whether they want us to or not.”

“We need to get you to Cipritine first,” the one of Garrus’ guard that hasn’t spoken yet says, a hum of consideration in his vocals as he takes a few steps to Garrus’ side. 

Something about him seems familiar, but almost as if she knows a younger version of him. It takes only a moment before she realizes why the voice - even slightly aged as it is - and purple stripes of paint on his mandibles comes to mind.

This is Sidonis, the man who betrayed her deceased husband and who begged for death as retribution. A death that she gladly let Garrus have.

_ How could it be so different that this Garrus actually has the man protecting him as an apparently well trusted guard? _

“Very true.” Jon nods in agreement as they reach the door to the elevator. “The Imperial Gate will take us to Taetrus and we can ride to Cipritine from there. I don’t think taking the Normandy is the safest choice.”

“Agreed. If the Reapers are at Cipritine, then they have control of the Apien Sea.” Garrus hums and rubs his thumb along his mandible, thinking over their strategy. “As much as I want to be there for my father with a quick escape on the Normandy, the Reapers are bound to be well aware of her. They’ll be looking for you and your ship,” he says to Jon and Jon frowns, nodding at the truth.

“The Normandy is going to be a blessing and a burden in this war.” Sighing, Jon runs a hand over his closely cut hair. “We’ll need to travel by land when we can.”

“Agreed,” Liara says as Sidonis of Garrus’ guard move to open the door to the elevator’s chambers. “And I’ll see if I can share the information of the Crucible with the scholars of the University in hopes that they can further translate it. Maybe there’s something EDI and I have missed.”

“Be careful when you do.” Jon stops them before Garrus’ female guard can fully open the door, gathering Liara, Jameson, Garrus, Jana, and Tali close. “The Councilor is right in his concerns about inciting panic,” he says, voice low but completely serious. “If the scholars so much as let it slip that we may have a mysterious device that can destroy the Reapers, then people may spread the word … and we all know that the Reapers have Corrupted amongst the populace.” He looks to each in the group. “We all know they’ll do anything to quell resistance.”

Liara closes her eyes and dips her head slightly. “Yes … Yes, you’re right ….” Thinking it over, she looks at him with a new idea showing clearly in her eyes. “I’ll request copies of their descriptions, of translations and patterns.”

Jon smiles and steps away to let the others free from his conspiring circle to relax. “That’s perfect. Get what you can when we reach the University. I have plenty to prepare for our travel.” He looks to Garrus. “I expect you do as well?”

“Actually, our things are gathered to leave already. Like I said, I’ve just been waiting to see when you’d finally arrive,” he jokes with an amused rumble before turning to the female of his group. “Mierin, you and the others go gather our things and meet us at the Imperial University. I plan to assist Jon any way he needs to get out of here faster.”

“Is going alone really wise?” Severus crosses his arms and pulls in his mandibles as if the idea has put a bad taste in his mouth. “We’re your guard, not your servants.”

“You’re right,” Garrus says to the man with grayish blue paints along his brow plates and in a stripe down the center of his mouth plates. “But someone will need to go alert the servants to gather up our things and you might as well save the time sending a messenger and go yourselves.” He glances at the other two guards who nod in understanding, agreement clear in their expressions. “And I’m perfectly safe on my own with Jon and his crew. Just be sure not to scratch Nightingale,” he says to Severus with a smirk and challenging rumble to his voice.

Severus merely flicks his mandible and ignores the obvious jab, turning to enter the elevator chambers. He moves to what looks like a horn from a nearly unheard of music player - phonograph, she thinks - she only knows from movies considered practically  _ ancient  _ for her universe. She hadn’t originally seen it from their lift ride up here, but figures it a logical addition to this room in order for the one level to speak to the other and call for the elevator.

Jameson fidgets uncomfortably and his gaze moves over her and Tali before turning to Jon. “Uh … Is using this thing really necessary? It’s definitely not the most … comfortable of experiences.”

Jana has to admit that she fully agrees with him on that, but she knows taking the stairs will be closer to an hour than the few minutes it took to ride the lift. She knows they could shave some time off if they took the stairs at a faster pace, but she’d rather not tire herself out when she knows that’d also mean she’d have to traverse the city itself. The fact that Jameson would rather do that than try and swallow his fear really makes her wonder how well conditioned these people are here.

_ And just how out of shape I’m going to seem in comparison. _

“That’s an awful lot of stairs,” Garrus says with a chuckle. “I’ve walked them before and, trust me, it’s not really all that fun.”

Jameson makes a disgruntled noise and Jon chuckles.

“Looks like you’re taking the Conveyor, Jameson.” Jon pats Jameson hard on the back before giving Severus a questioning raise of his brows. “Are they sending it up?”

“Yes, sir,” the turian says with a curt nod. “However, there’s not enough room for all of us. I suggest we go separately and Templar Shepard take his own crew after.”

Looking over the group, Jana admits the man has a point. Garrus and Severus are the tallest of the group, but Sidonis and Meirin -  _ isn’t she one of Archangel’s lost teammates? _ \- are not that much shorter. Plus, the three are in what looks like heavy, dense armor. She doesn’t know just how much the elevator can carry safely, but she definitely remembers that it isn’t big enough for all of them while still having some room to even breathe.

Humming, Garrus huffs a laugh. “I think you three can wait for the lift. You  _ are  _ the heaviest with your full armors.”

“Is that still safe?” Jana asks nervously, giving them a forced chuckle when everyone looks to her. “I don’t know the limits, but it still seems like a lot of weight …. And a … primitive elevator ….” She peeters off at the end, not wanting to really insult them and their universe’s advancements, but unable to hide her trepidation about the slow descent and every possibility of the lift failing.

“If you’d like …” Garrus starts, pausing to mull over his words with a timid rumble. “If you’d like, I could be close to you? I mean … that way if it fails - Not that I think it’d fail …. But if you don’t like the idea …. Not that it’d happen because the Conveyor is very safe …. But I could stand by you and catch you if something happens?” he asks more than says, offer awkward as his wings fidget, opening just slightly before snapping back closed at his back. “Nevermind …. It’s fine. Nothing will happen …. Don’t worry. Forget I said anything ….”

Tali subtly elbows Jana in the side, but Jon thankfully distracts the group as he clears his throat. 

“There’ll be no need to worry about falling. I’ve heard of the Conveyor handling much heavier when they were testing it and it’s said that it didn’t even wobble.” He smiles at Jana and winks, saying, “Don’t worry. The chamber is big enough for Garrus and his Praetorians to use their wings to follow from above without ever setting foot on the Conveyor.” He chuckles and lays a hand on her shoulder. “That’ll only leave you, Tali, Jameson, Liara, and me to actually ride the Conveyor down with the operator.”

Scoffing slightly, Severus shakes his head once. “It’s highly unbecoming of us to use our wings. It’s turian custom when at the Citadel to-”

Garrus waves the other turian away with an annoyed hum. “What are wings for if  _ custom  _ dictates we can’t use them?” Smirking, he rumbles at Jon and the others. “They only exist because we make the other races jealous.”

“I’d much rather not have them, thank you very much,” Tali retorts with a snort as she looks to Jana, a smile in her eyes.

Jana huffs a weak laugh. “Yeah … I’ll stick to the ground.”

“It’s not so bad,” Garrus says softly, almost sad as his mandibles twitch against his mouth as the lift slows to a stop at the landing. Taking a step back to give the others room to enter the elevator, Garrus thrums softly down to Jana and smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s perfectly safe, I promise …. I mean ….” He hums and his mandibles flutter a bit as he rubs his neck and avoids her eyes. “Yeah ….” He shuffles on his feet, backing away as Tali nudges her to enter the chamber and climb onto the lift. “We’ll, uh, be right down after you.”

Jana can’t help the slight smile at his awkwardness, but hides it so that it becomes something only for herself as she ducks her head. She’s sure Tali senses it, though, because her friend reaches down and takes her hand, giving it a slight squeeze. Jana can almost feel the vibration of excitement and delight from Tali through their hands and, though she knows she has no right to, Jana feels a bit of it herself.

Here she is, preparing to join Jon and travel with  _ Garrus _ … and if the two men are anything like she and her Garrus were, then there’s no way they’ll separate so long as there are Reapers to fight. There’s no Shepard without Vakarian, no matter the universe. She’s sure of it. As sure as her blood is crimson.

Tali’s grip helps ease some of the jitters from the slight shake of the elevator initially starting its descent. Jana finds that looking up to the four turians waiting at the landing above eases her mind more than imagining the ground closing in from below. Eventually, though, she starts to feel their attention shift down to the lift and its occupants, so she averts her gaze to the wall before her so she doesn’t happen to catch Garrus’ eyes with her own.

The elevator ride seems to descend faster than it rose, which seems to make Jameson as happy as it does Jana. Soon, the lift gives a slight tremble as it settles on the ground and the man from before opens the doors to allow the group to exit. The Doyen is still here, tending to her crew before turning to Jon and approaching just as he sets foot on the stone floor of the chamber.

“Captain Shepard, I hear rumor you’re title has been reinstated,” she says, cupping her chin. “Is it true?”

Jon chuckles slightly and nods, offering her the scroll from his jacket. She unrolls it, eyes flicking over the writing quickly as she gives a slight hum. Seemingly satisfied, she nods and begins to roll the parchment back together.

“Yes, well, it seems that everything is in order.” Handing it back, she takes a step aside to let them pass. “Word will spread fast, I’m sure. The Conveyor will be at your service should you need access to the Council Chambers, Templar.”

“My thanks,” Jon says with a duck of his head, slipping the scroll into his jacket once more.

A shadow falls over the ground, calling everyone’s attention upward and Jana looks up and immediately, her mouth falls open in awe.

It happens so fast, but Garrus is first as he practically dives down the chambers, wings looser but not yet fully extended. She can feel her own stomach drop with him as horrors run through her mind, but just before reaching the ground, he rearranges himself midair, pulling his head and torso up and pushing his feet down as his wings finally open. Catching himself with the sudden resistance of air against the tawny hide of his large wings, Garrus’ wings flap once before he lands in the sudden clearing the robed men and women have made in their surprise at seeing him.

Just as quickly as they were thrown open, Garrus’ massive wings fold back in to tuck themselves behind his back once more. Jana imagines his wingspan close to thirty-five feet though they barely managed to completely open within the suddenly small seeming chambers. Closed as they are, she now notices how, at their longest, they must curl inward slightly to keep from dragging on the floor and each boney finger ends in a talon very similar to the ones on the three fingers of his actual hands.

She realizes she’s been staring when her eyes glance up to find his similarly on her. She swallows, blushing slightly at the same time his mandibles flutter and he quickly looks away. Sure to do the same, Jana turns to Jon for the next word of his plans.

“No flying in my chambers!” the Doyen shouts, though the last of Garrus’ guard, Sidonis, ignores her as he lands, righting his gear as his lighter tan wings draw in.

“Our apologies, madam Doyen,” Jon says, smiling when she scoffs and leaves them to turn her shouts on those working in the chambers. Waiting for everyone’s full attention, Jon clears his throat and looks between each member of the group. “If we’re to use the Imperial Gate at the University, then we need to gather our things. I need crew and supplies.”

“And I  _ could  _ do with some more supplies for the ride,” Garrus agrees, nodding with a rumble. “I say we separate, gather our things, and meet at the University. Being a Templar once again, they won’t give you much trouble for arriving without notice.”

Jon chuckles slightly. “And with you being Prince of Palaven, the Scholars aren’t bound to give you much trouble.”

Tali leans closer to Jana and whispers, “Prince?” but Jana barely hears her over the shock of learning just  _ exactly  _ who Garrus is to his people. ‘Atheling’ isn’t a word she knows, but ‘Prince?’

She damn well knows how important a  _ Prince  _ is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


	7. What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
>  
> 
>  _Orð (or ord for ease) -_ 'Word.' As in the spoken or written word. There are derivatives for different regions of Terra  
>  _Auðvitað (or audvitad for ease)_  - 'Of course.' 'Vitad means a shortened 'course  
>  _Yua_  - 'Young child' in a teasing manner. Asari often joke and call shorter-lived species this

Jana is pleasantly surprised when she finds that citizens of the Citadel aren’t exactly restricted to only walking to get around the big city. Though not present in the Presidium to clog up the pristine view of gardens and golden cobblestones, Jon mentions that there are carriages for those willing to pay that can traverse the stone streets of the city with greater ease and speed than by foot alone.

Jon leads the group through the avenue and northeast to a drawbridge that crosses the moat filled with crystal clear water in which fish - many quite a bit larger than the few in the Council Chamber’s pond and all either just as colorful or even more vibrant - swim to the bridge as if trained to seek food at people’s approach. Jana can envision young children from the opulent homes around the Presidium coming to the bridges to throw food into the waters or gaze down at the aquatic flowers and lily pads that float elegantly at the moat’s steep banks. 

She also wonders what would happen if someone accidentally fell in the deep water. With its level so low in comparison to the bridge and Presidium’s ground in order to prevent attackers from swimming across, it would seem quite difficult to pull together a rescue for any poor fool that either slipped in or decided to try his luck at a quick swim.

“What happens if people fall in?” Tali asks and Jana can’t help the slight smile at just how deeply connected she and the quarian are and how it makes it seem like they can almost read the other’s mind instead of things being mere coincidence. “How do they get out?”

“It’s been a long time since that’s happened,” Liara says as she follows Tali’s gaze to the water below with her own azure eyes. “And if someone happens to have too much to drink and foolishly falls in, the Citadel Guard has reed ladders to extend to them.”

“Because there’s no way someone’s climbing out of there without some kind of help.” Jameson stops a moment to lift up onto his toes to get a good look over the edge of the bridge and down to the bottom of the moat.

Whoever had dug and designed the moats laid mosaics along the walls and loose stones at its bottom. With the way the light reflects off the tiles of various shades of blue and aqua, it seems like the moat is shallow, but Jana knows it’s all an illusion, a deception perhaps meant to trick enemies into dropping in so that they become trapped or, in the worst cases, sink to the bottom should they be wearing heavy armors and weapons.

Jon nods as he steps up to a large door on the outer wall of the Presidium and holds a hand up to stop the Citadel Guard ready to leave their posts at the door to seemingly open it for them. Turning to the group, Jon chuckles and says, “Yeah, there was a lot of cleaning up to do after Sovereign and his geth attacked. The Guard forced the attacking geth towards the moats to quell their numbers.” He nods and waves Jameson to help him pull open the door. “But,” he says with a grunt when the doors initially resist before starting to move, “they managed to have it back to the way it was by the time I came back.” When the doors are open enough for them to pass - but obviously not needlessly opened to their entirety - Jon looks to them and shrugs in what feels like disappointment. “It’s as if nothing happened.”

“That’s their problem.” Jameson scoffs and takes the lead for them, using his bulky form to make way for them even if it seems humans are among some of the shorter species in this universe judging by the ones Jana’s seen.

Jon tilts his head in reluctant agreement but waves a hand for Jana, Tali, and Liara to walk ahead of him. Taking a last glance at the waters of the moat, Tali joins Liara in exiting the Presidium but Jana takes one more long look at the sight of tall spires and buildings around the broad avenue and its Gardens settled at and around the base of the massive Tower. Her gaze then moves back, taking a deep look into the deceivingly pleasant moat and up to the guarding wall surrounding the whole of the Presidium, the whole of the _Citadel_.

Above the doors is a large engraving of letters much like the ones she and Tali were discussing and pondering over knowing earlier in the morning. She doesn’t need to think on them to know they say Kithoi, as in the Kithoi Ward - _or District, if Zakera is any indication of the pattern_ \- and she frowns slightly in confusion of the still concerning concept of suddenly knowing something that should at least take a few months to learn.

“Jon,” she says, laying a hand on his elbow to draw his attention upwards at the lettering. “What’s that language?”

“Oh, that’s _Hermia_ .” Jon smiles at her as if that’s answer enough, but his smile quickly flattens out when her brows furrow in continued confusion. “It’s the asari language …. It’s also Common Tongue for everyone.” He motions to walk with him as they follow the others, tucking his hands in his officer jacket’s pockets. “See …. I’m sure you guys all spoke different languages too?” He hums when she nods and mimics her nod. “Asari were the first to find the Citadel - _‘vitad_ , the Citadel _was_ in Thessia, so it isn’t all that surprising.” He takes his hands from his pockets and motions above their heads at the buildings all around them. “Just found it like this already …. Well, the stonework anyway. To hear the stories, there was quite a bit of work to turn it back into what it must have been for the Protheans. 

“So,” he says, tucking his hands away and looking around at the various species in the street, bustling about or lingering at merchants’ carts and what must be storefronts. “The asari made _Hermia_ the Common Tongue because they were the first ones here, the first ones to a place where a unified government would soon flourish. It wasn’t long before they and the salarians discovered one another …. And the salarians just didn’t seem to mind learning _Hermia_ , so everyone after had to learn it if they wanted to be a part of the Imperial Provinces.”

“So I assume that’s what everyone’s speaking?” When Jon gives her a dumbfounded look, she chuckles nervously. “It worked kinda the same for us, but we had a type of tech that automatically translated things for us, so even if we didn’t want to learn Standard or speak it at the moment, we could understand each other.”

“That’s quite the ‘tech’ …. Sounds almost magical,” Jon says before humming and scratching his chin. “So you’re saying the dialect and script are different here than there too?”

Jana nods. “We hadn’t noticed it at first because, somehow, we know how to read it, but I don’t know how or why the obelisk changed that in us.” She huffs and looks around at the bustling people and market stands selling all manner of things from raw meats to precious looking jewels. “I’m not complaining, though. God only knows where we’d be if we didn’t know at least _one_ language people spoke here in your world.”

“I wonder if you know how to speak _Ord_ ,” he says with a glance up at the sky. “Or if Tali can speak _Khelish_.”

“Well, she does, thankfully.” Jana smiles when he looks back down to her. “ _Khelish_ is the language used by quarians where we come from. I suspect there might be some differences, but hopefully, it’ll basically be the same when it boils down to it.” She chuckles and shrugs. “I don’t know why, but knowing that she might have a foot up on this language thing feels good. We’ve been so thrown since coming here that you gotta take every little thing, you know?”

Jon smiles and chuckles. “Well, hopefully, we can find some better things to make you both more comfortable. It may take some time, but I want you to feel like you belong …. I know that I’m grateful for having any helpful hand I can find.”

“Yeah, well …. We haven’t seen how bad we are at your weapons,” she jokes and he waves her words away.

“Nonsense. We’ll figure something out. Even if it means you’ll help out at camp instead of going into battle.”

“Hopefully, I can prove more useful though,” she says as he lays a hand on her shoulder before stepping up between and in front of Liara, Tali, and Jameson to wave down a passing single-horse wagon. 

“Hail! Good sir!” Jon calls out to the human man holding the reins of the brown, shaggy horse. When the wagon stops, Jon comes up to the man’s side and gently pets the horse’s rear, as if in praise. “I offer gold for a ride in your carriage to the Zakera District for myself and my friends,” Jon says, motioning behind him to their small group. “We don’t need anything but a ride.”

Jana glances at the wooden ‘carriage,’ very surprised at the stark contrast to what she had envisioned thanks to various vids. Instead of a round, enclosed carriage of fairy tales, their hopeful ride seems more a wagon like she initially thought with its open top, wooden benches against the sides, and short walls that’d provide little support for their backs during the ride. She’d be much more inclined to see the thing hauling barrels and goods than their small group and the slight discolorations of the wooden bottom tells her enough to think that’s exactly what this man uses it for.

The man tips back his long, loose brimmed hat and looks the group over before returning his gaze back down to Jon. “A hundred gold and you get off at the docks. I’ll go no further.”

Jon grins and nods. “That’s all we need.” Fetching a pouch from his belt, he pulls open the drawstring and fetches a single golden coin roughly one and a half inches in diameter. Handing it over, he smiles and waits for the man to rub the coin on his shirt sleeve as if to buff it clean, both nodding when the inspection passes.

Clapping his hands together softly, Jon turns to the others and motions a hand towards the wagon in an ‘after you’ fashion. “Shall we ride?”

Jameson shrugs and climbs on as Jon comes to the side to offer a hand to the women of the group, which considering Liara’s skirt, is probably a good idea. Liara hesitates a moment, chewing her lip as she stares at the stained, rough wood. Considering she’s barefooted save for a type of slip looping beneath the arch of her foot only, Jana can only imagine all the splinters Liara’s considering.

“It smells of fish,” Liara whispers to Jon and he offers an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Liara, but trust me, there’s a reason I came to him instead of a noble’s carriage.”

Liara glances at him before giving the wooden wagon one more, good look. She seems to sigh slightly as she hikes up her skirt with one hand and takes Jon’s offered one in her other, stepping up onto the small jut of wood made into a step for better ease without having to use their hands to pull themselves up. Liara joins Jameson on the bench to the left, her face flat in an obvious sense of discomfort and disapproval of their ride.

Jana lets Tali go next, watching how Jon clasps her hand with a warm smile and softly says something inviting. Jana can’t see her friend’s face, but her posture says enough that Tali appreciated the words - maybe even _liked_ the tender care of being treated like she can’t take a step by herself. She almost feels as if Tali’s rewarded Jon with some sort of genuine expression, perhaps a smile in gratitude though it’s hard to imagine Tali accepting help for some simple task simply because she’s a woman without threatening that ‘she has a shotgun.’

A silent conversation seems to happen between Jon and Jana - one concerning her slight nervousness at being treated in what she felt was a manner giving her much less credit an N-7 deserved. It was a wagon, for Christ’s sake, and something about an offered hand seemed off, so she’s grateful when he shifts his stance to offer his elbow as a grip for a boost up. She uses it, grateful for the aid, and turns to offer him a hand up in return.

Settling themselves on the benches, Jana and Tali across from Jon, Liara, and Jameson, Jana looks out at the citizens on the street as the carriage begins to move. The sound of clanking from the horse's feet on the stones and creak of wood from the wheels seem to block out the droning of people at the markets, but it’s thankfully less bumpy than riding directly on the horse’s back.

“Alright, I have to ask,” Tali says, drawing everyone’s attention as she speaks to Jon. “Does every species use horses?”

Jon huffs in amusement in that way that he does when a situation calls for him explaining something of his world to them that seems so commonplace. It’s always a sound full of enjoyment and pride, his obvious love for his world evident in such a slight sound.

“Oh, of course not. Almost every Province has its own chosen steed,” he says, glancing at Liara and chuckling. “Maybe ‘mount’ is more appropriate a word then.” Sitting in a way to relax on the wooden bench, he stretches out a leg. “Horses are more versatile for pulling carts full of crates and barrels of … pretty much everything. They’re a perfect size for the Citadel streets for the amount they can haul. Yeou are roughly the same size, but by comparison, a single horse can pull a heavier cart than a yeou.” Before Jana or Tali could ask what a ‘yeou’ even was, Liara speaks.

“Yeou have always been more adept at carrying a rider or two than pulling a carriage,” she says, seemingly more accustomed to this creature than Jon is. “They’re very elegant creatures and even asari are more likely to ride a horse than a yeou. Yeous are more of a spiritual guide for our priestesses and my people.” She quirks her lips and looks up in thought. “I suppose you might see a dignitary or two riding one in the Presidium if they were feeling particularly opulent and wanted to show off.”

“Have you ever ridden one?” Tali asks, shifting in her seat into a more alert, inquisitive straight-backed posture. “A yeou?”

“Oh, _Goddess_ , no.” Liara seems stunned by the mere thought as she lays a hand on her chest. “I’ve been able to see one, feel the softness of its fur, but never _ridden_ one.” She blushes slightly and shakes her head a bit as if at the thought. “I’m a simple scholar among my people. I only ever saw one in person because my mother was a Matriarch. Matriarchs are more likely to ride a yeou if involved in a grand ceremony. My mother was an important figure in Lucen, but I believe she had only ever ridden a yeou once or twice.”

Unsure that a yeou could even be considered a mount given the number of spiritual customs and restrictions in riding one the asari seem to have, Jana is curious to know what she should even be seeing with her mind’s eye and asks, “What _is_ a yeou? We obviously don’t have something like that where we come from …. And if our universe’s asari _do_ , it wasn’t ever a topic that came up.”

“Oh,” Liara says, blinking in surprise a moment before understanding crosses her expression. “Of course …. I sometimes forget that you’re not actually from our realm. You just seem to have settled in so well.”

“That they have,” Jon agrees with a smile. “I sure hope looks aren’t deceiving in that aspect?”

Chuckling nervously, Jana looks around to see the carriage turning off of a paved road and into streets made more of sparse stones and dirt obviously packed down by countless feet passing by. “It’s still a bit of a shock, but … I think it’s getting easier now that we’ve finally seen some kind of city. A ship in water isn’t something I’ve ever been on, but a city is more familiar, no matter how different.”

She sees how Jon sits forward to look directly at Tali, a concerned furrow to his brow. “I hope it’s the same for you …. We still haven’t talked about your ‘suit,’ but I hope there aren’t even more difficulties for you here.”

Tali tucks her hands between her legs and tilts her head and Jana can almost imagine her chewing it over. “Of course not,” she says and Jana lifts a brow at how much Tali sounds like her younger self back when she was just happy to be along for the ride hunting Saren instead of going on missions out of obligation. “It takes some getting used to and ….” She makes a hum in her throat, mulling over her words, and Jana has a feeling she knows what Tali’s trying to think of how to say without it sounding like an insult.

“Our realm is very … sterile,” Tali tries, glancing at Jana and Jana nods to keep going. “And here is much more ….”

Taking the possible negative reaction for her friend, Jana says, “Dirty.” 

When the others just look at her in confusion rather than anger, she rubs her hands together to try and explain. “We don’t have buildings made of stone, but metal and polymer blends. Everything is clean to prevent cross-species contamination and complications ….” She huffs and motions around her at the street that seems almost set apart from the pristine Presidium and decently well-kept and bright streets directly pass the door dividing it from this district. “And this place just seems to lack that. I mean, we’re riding in a dirty wagon that smells faintly of fish on _dirt_ roads.”

Instead of seeming to be angry, Jon chuckles and sits back to give their surroundings a good look. While not necessarily looking like the streets of Omega, it’s quite clear that citizens have done less to look like a kind of … crowd attracting spot and have gone with a more lived-in state. This is obviously off the beaten path for many, the few glances of merchants seemingly unbothered with trying to outsell each other with their shiny baubles and more just make a decent living with selling to cater to the most basic of needs.

“Yeah, I can see how you’d think that.” Jon hums and crosses his arms. “And I can tell at least Jameson and Liara are wondering why I didn’t call on a noble’s carriage. Noble carriages take the routes through the paved streets, showing the beautiful side of the District, so to speak, but this kind of carriage?” He pats the wood of the short wall at his back. “No doubt our coachman knows the faster routes to the docks.”

“Got that right,” the man says gruffly, barely glancing over his shoulder. “Best routes are the ones the high and mighties don’t even want to think exist, let alone ride on.”

Jon holds out a hand in ‘there you go’ as explanation enough and Jana nods, agreeing in some ways on taking the back route. The smell, however, she could do without, but beggars can’t be choosers and, in this world, that saying seems to carry a lot more weight behind it. 

It makes her wonder just how far Jon’s ‘Templar’ status is going to get them in terms of ease in getting what they need and where they need to go. She has a feeling the title is very similar - if not the same - as her Spectre status, but money seems to come about less quickly than a simple data transfer from one person to the next. This place involves _actual,_ physical coin and she wonders just how Jon acquires what he needs, who gives it to him, and just how much they’ll be able to buy with it. 

Although, if they’re traveling with a _prince_ , then perhaps things will come to them a hell of a lot easier so long as Garrus takes the lead in those matters.

Not surprising considering her own Liara’s thrill of explaining all manner of things about her people, Jon’s Liara smiles and sits closer to the edge of her seat. “Do you still want to know what a yeou looks like?”

Jana chuckles at the enthusiasm for something she’s forgotten about just as quickly as it came up, but it’s obvious that it’s important to Liara, so she nods. Tali nods as well, answering for them with a ‘yes, very much so.’

_I wonder if the description will translate for either of us?_

“They’re a kind of Vulpia,” Liara says with a proud smile that falters when neither Jana nor Tali seem to immediately understand. “Do you know what a fox is?”

Tali’s frown of confusion is obvious in her posture and Jana shifts to explain about it to her friend, though she doesn’t know all that much about an animal she’s never seen but except for vids. “Remember when we all showed the non-human species ‘dogs’ back home?” When Tali nods, Jana smiles and nods back. “They’re sorta like that, but much more sleek and aren’t domesticated. They’re red with a white belly, right?” she asks, glancing to Liara.

Liara nods and clasps her hands together just as the carriage passes beneath the large archway of the open doors leading out of the Citadel and onto the large bridge of the docks. “Yeou aren’t exactly foxes, but they are a more spiritual form of them. They are much larger - obviously - though slightly smaller than an average horse. But they come in many different colors.” She smiles. “The one I saw as a young girl was the color of fresh cream and had the deepest amber eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“But they can’t pull a carriage,” Jameson says and Liara’s eyes widen.

“Why would you ever do that? _Goddess_ ….”

She looks like she’s about to faint when Jon chuckles and lays a hand on her shoulder, tugging her to his side to give her a slight hug. “You know he’s only trying to get you worked up.” Letting her relax back in her seat, Jon gives Jameson a mock glare to scold him. “Don’t make me put you on hostler duty when we get on the road.”

“ _Maker_ , mercy,” Jameson says with a cringe. “I’d rather haul the carriages _myself_ than tend to the horses after a long day.” He grins and pats Liara on the back. “Maybe one day you’ll show me one of these yeou and I’ll be eating my words. They actually sound like quite the thing to see.”

Liara smiles and nods slightly. “I’d like that.”

Jana smiles at the two and her gaze moves to Tali looking between Jon and Liara. Something feels timid about the way Tali fidgets, but Jana can’t put her finger on it and isn’t going to ask while in other people’s company. She has a feeling Tali has a bit of a crush on Jon with the way she gets flustered when he’s around or talking about him. It’s slight, but Jana knows her friend like the back of her hand and she has to admit that if Tali were to find anyone attractive, Jana’s happy it’s Jon. 

He seems like a pretty decent guy.

Although there’s still that something in the way he always wears that braided purple rope like an anchor, like the way Jana clings to her ring.

“Oh, hey,” Jameson says, getting to his feet and patting the coachman on the shoulder. “Stop here ….” Looking to Jana, he grins. “Didn’t forget about your armor, did you?”

Jana initially furrows her brows in confusion but follows Jameson’s gaze when he jerks his chin towards the buildings behind her. Shifting in her seat, she looks over the merchant shops until she sees the sign of the blacksmith, Girr, a short walk away.

She chuckles and shakes her head. “After paying seven hundred gold for it? Hell no,” she says, standing up and glancing to Tali. “You want to head up to the Normandy and pack our things?”

Tali nods and moves her legs to let Jameson squeeze between her and the others to climb off the wagon. Just as Jameson jumps down with a heavy thump on the wooden docks, he motions with his hand towards the blacksmith’s shop.

“Don’t worry. Girr and Sephone make the best armor around.” He leans closer to her as he grabs the door’s heavy iron handle, mock whispering. “Just don’t let him know I said that or he’d be even _more_ of an _oppfostre_.” Plastering a huge grin on his face at her amused snort, he hauls open the large wooden door and calls out before even stepping foot in the shop. “Girr!” he shouts, drawing out the long ‘R’ of the krogan’s name. “How about that set of armor?”

An asari, tall like so many others, comes to the call as she rubs her hands off on the stained apron wrapped around her hips. A large scar cuts down the left side of her face, down over both lips and more square shaped chin, finally curling at the hollow of her throat. She seems more masculine than other asari, wearing a leather wrap around her almost nonexistent breasts, the only thing portraying any kind of ‘asari beauty standards’ the delicate purple slashes across her indigo cheeks.

She’s a working woman, maybe even a blacksmith as well, and it shows. Watching the woman’s arms flex as she leans on the counter, Jana can certainly appreciate the amount of hard work the woman is obviously capable of.

“What do you want, _yua_?” The asari says with a rough chuckle as she looks the two humans over before looking back to Jameson, jerking her chin towards him. “You still carrying around that pile of hair, Jameson?”

“Hey,” Jameson says with a sharp tone of mock insult as he physically jerks his body. “ _This_ is a piece of art,” he says with a soft caress to his fur cloak. When the asari snorts and leans back to cross her arms, he drops his hands and looks around behind her into the back of the shop. “So, uh … Girr was supposed to have a set of armor ready for us.”

“Yeah, I know,” the asari says, glancing up at Jana and motioning for her to approach. “So you’re the one gonna wear it?” She hums when Jana nods with a soft ‘yes, ma’am’ and waves her hand dismissively. “No ‘ma’ams’ here.” Dropping her arms, she heads back for the hidden room - or rooms - of the shop. “I got your things here.”

The asari returns with a stack of what looks like thick clothing and armor. She sets it on the counter and starts to take the stack apart to reveal its individual pieces.

“Here we got your pauldrons,” she says, setting aside a pair of obvious shoulder guards judging by the round shape of the layers of silver-colored metal and strap that’s most likely meant to wrap around her upper arm. “Here’s your gambeson, even more padded than our usual.” Her gaze flicks to Jana. “Girr said there’s somethin’ about you made him think you’d need it. Here’s your kidney belt,” she continues with a motion to a thick leather belt, continuing her examination of Jana’s new armor. “You got a belt for your scabbard here too. Don’t know if you’ll be heading into Terra, but here’s some fur for your collar just in case.” She gives Jameson a pointed look, adding, “But you didn’t get as … extravagant a collar as our friend here.”

Jameson chuckles and glances to Jana, pride in his grin. “I hunted this bear down by myself, killed it with my bare hands …. Of course, I’m going to wear it everywhere I go. People gotta know what these,” he says, flexing his arms, “can do.”

“Yes, well …. That’s certainly a story,” the asari drones, obviously unimpressed - or either used to the very unbelievable story - as she pulls out a long, dark blue tunic and matching arm wraps. “One’s for under your gambeson - obviously - and the others will help protect your arms. They may look weak, but they’re thickly bound, so they’ll take a good hit so long as you’re not dealing with a hammer or anything.”

Jana chuckles nervously, unsure of what she’s getting herself into. “Uh, no …. That’s not in the plans ….”

“Don’t worry,” Jameson says with a nod. “We won’t let you get in that kind of situation. We stand together.”

The asari sighs and stacks the gear back up. “We have boots for you too. They have some leather guards four your shins if you want them. Don’t know if they’re your size because the lumbering idiot didn’t measure your feet.”

Jana nods in understanding and chews her lip. “Yeah …. If they’re included in the seven hundred, then I’ll take them.”

Jameson pats her on the shoulder as he approaches the counter. He waits for the asari to stack the tall, dark brown boots on the top of the pile before passing the stack off to Jana and returning to the asari blacksmith.

“You already had your four-fifty, so here’s the rest,” he says with a firm nod and sets a small, jingling pouch on the counter.

The asari immediately snatches it up, dumping the coins out over the counter and laying them flat. Among the pieces are one gold coin with a large sun on its surface like the one Jon previously used and three silver coins about the same size - probably all the same despite one having a deer on its surface and a moon on the other two, both sides of the same coin. She hums and examines the coins in the lantern on her counter’s light before slipping the coins back into the pouch. 

“Alright. Everything’s paid out,” she says as she tucks the pouch into a pocket of her apron. “You know to come back when you need more armor.” She crosses her arms and gives Jameson a glare. “Not too happy about the rushes, though, so try not to make it a habit.”

Jameson grins, laying a hand on Jana’s shoulder while he motions to leave with the other so he can follow. “No promises!”


	8. The Imperial University

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
> _Ylva_  (ill-va) (human term) - Name that means 'she-wolf'
> 
> _Prorex_  (turian term) - A Viceroy, an official who runs a country, colony, city, province, or sub-national state, in the name of and as the representative of the monarch of the territory
> 
> _Alfi_  (ahl-fi) (human term) - From the Ancient Nordic word 'alfi' meaning strength; physical strength, might, power
> 
> _Vorður, Vörður (or vordur for ease_ ) (human term) - - Warden, Guard, or Watchman

When Jana and Jameson arrive back at the Normandy, it seems Jon has already had the crew hard at work getting prepared for their trip to Palaven. She remembers something about an 'Imperial Gate' at some University, but she doesn't know the importance this particular gate has as opposed to any of the other gates in the Citadel. Obviously, whatever it is, it leads out of the Citadel because, so far, it seems like the crew has already brought out plenty of supplies in barrels and crates for a long trip.

She has no idea how the mere four horses they have are going to be able to haul the number of supplies Jon has planned for their trip, but she doubts she's in much position to question the preparation when she has little idea beyond the fact that they're going to use some gate to get to Palaven so they can avoid traveling by sea, which is apparently under Reaper control.

Following a group of crewmembers carrying packs from the ship to their small stack of gear for the trip, Jon is in his full armor once more. The golden eagle on his chest plate glistens in the sunlight as he turns to look over the dock, his eyes catching Jana and Jameson trying to get to the Normandy without getting in the various ships' crews way as they load and unload their vessels.

"Jameson! Jana!" Jon lifts a hand to them and sets his helmet down on a crate that a pair of crewmembers are carrying past. "I was hoping you'd arrive soon," he says as he joins them at the dock, just beyond the Normandy's gangplanks. "I think it'd be best if you two get into your armors before we head out for the Imperial University. I have no idea what lies beyond the Gate in Palven, but there could be any possibility that the Corruption's reach has already extended to Taetrus."

"Wait," Jana says, face contorting in confusion. "Palaven is just beyond some Gate here in the Citadel? I thought the Citadel was in Thessia? Is it on the border of the two or something?"

"You've never heard of a Rift Gate before,  _Ylva_?" Jameson asks with a pat on her back and a grin. "How'd you get around in your realm?"

"In ways you'd probably think I'm making up," she retorts plainly and he definitely looks like he's trying to imagine something, but Jon interrupts any follow-up questions with a smile and a pat on the clothing and armor in her hands.

"You got your armor …. Good," he says before jerking his head back towards the Normandy. "I think Tali's almost done packing what she'd like to take from your cabin, but I'd like you to go up there and get into your gear. Jameson?" He looks to the other man before raising a brow and glancing at Jana's things. "I think Jana needs a helmet, don't you? Be sure to grab her one when you're done getting your armor on."

Jameson nods in understanding and gives her a wordless, apologetic smile for missing that piece of armor for her set before moving towards the Normandy's gangplanks and leaving just her and Jon.

"I don't know how much help I'm going to be out there, to be honest," Jana says as she walks beside Jon up a gangplank. "I mean, I don't even have a weapon or even know how to  _use_ your weapons. Okay, let me rephrase," she says with a snort and roll of her head, "I can probably bludgeon something to death. You have weapons like that, right? Just clubs to bash something with? I can probably do that …. Who can't?"

Jon chuckles softly and shakes his head, stopping in the middle of the gangplank and waving a hand towards the Normandy's cargo hold. "Go ahead and get ready. We have plenty of weapons around the ship that I'm sure we can find something that suits you while we're on the road to Cipritine." He hums and sighs. "To speak truth, I don't think it's going to be a smooth ride getting there, so you just might find yourself in quite the situation to have plenty of practice." Smiling, he lays a hand on her shoulder to still her nerves at the idea of being in the middle of battle feeling practically naked without the knowledge of how to properly use a weapon without hurting herself. "Don't worry, Jana. We're all with you. We fight as a team - as one - and we won't leave you to fend for yourself. We'll do our best to watch your back," he says, but holds up a finger with a firm nod, "but we won't coddle you. You know at least something about battle that you'll know when to back down and let someone else take them on … and when you don't need any help at all."

Jana huffs and gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I appreciate the confidence. I've slashed with an omni-tool and ungracefully bashed things with my rifle before, so maybe you might be right. I definitely know you won't need to worry about me getting too cocky or anything." Blowing a breath out the corner of her mouth to jostle a red curl that's fallen loose from her braid, Jana adds, "The idea of being on a completely different kind of battlefield does a good job making you humble."

Chuckling, Jon pats her back and turns away to continue commanding his men in preparation for the trip. Jana gives his back one last good look before sighing and heading into the Normandy. Jameson trots over to her as she makes her way to the stairs leading to the higher decks and offers a closed helmet with an opening on the front across the eyes and down the center like Jon's helmet.

"Here you go,  _Ylva_ ," he says with a smile and she holds up a hand to stop him from heading before her up the stairs.

"What's ' _Ylva_?'"

" _Ylva_? Like …  _Ylva_ …." He frowns when her expression doesn't show any sign of understanding. "It's a name …. You remind me of a  _Ylva_."

He tries to walk up the steps, but she shifts her gear enough to free a hand to grab his elbow. She remembers Vega trying to call her 'Lola' back home and it felt very unprofessional - and, granted, she wasn't in the right mind for nicknames at the time - but she at least knew the name, but ' _Ylva'_ has no meaning, no connotation, and no clue of what he could possibly be associating with her by saying she 'reminds him of a  _Ylva_.'

"What's  _Ylva mean_ ," she says as she lets him go. "It's obviously not a common name where I'm from."

"Oh …." Jameson stops on the step and turns to her. "' _Ylva'_  means 'she-wolf.'" He shrugs and smiles. "You seem like a she-wolf to me. I don't mean anything by it and if you want, I can stop-"

"No, it's okay," she interrupts, smiling. In truth, being called a 'she-wolf' is not too bad of a nickname. Much better than being associated with a 'hot sister' of an old friend. She chuckles and waves her hand to let him know he can move without her stopping him again, following behind him instead. "You're going to have to tell me what nicknames you gave to other people one day. I'm curious …."

He chuckles and nods, just the top of his head visible over the large swell of the fur cloak across his shoulders. "Yeah, no problem," he says as they arrive on the crew deck and he heads for one of the shared bunkrooms. "Let me know if you need help with any of your gear."

"Sure … though I think Tali and I can manage at least most of it," she jokes, hoping she's right because she really doesn't want to slow the group down by needing someone to come in and help her get dressed. "It shouldn't be too different from our own armor."

He shrugs again. "You'll have to tell me if that's true or not," he says with a chuckle and she nods, waving at him as she continues onward towards her shared cabin.

Entering the cabin, Jana finds Tali has already packed most of their things into packs they'll most likely strap to a horses' back much like Jana's already seen done to the horses down on the docks. Surprisingly, Tali's leaving their tech piled up on her own bed and Jana lifts her brows in curiosity.

"Not taking your project to work on?"

Tali stops packing Jana's own clothing into a large, unfurled pack to turn to the voice, her hands wringing as she glances towards their tech on the bed. "Well, I'm not sure …. I don't know if we'll have the time or the space to take it." She sighs and lowers her head, rubbing a hand over her arm. "And I don't know if I'll ever get any of it working."

Humming as she looks between her friend and their discarded tech, Jana moves to set her new armor on her bed and pull her smaller pack off her shoulder. She upturns the bag and dumps the clothing and items in it onto the pile of her other things before offering the empty pack to Tali.

"Pack what you think might be useful for now," she says, motioning to the bed before working at untying and loosening the leather ties at the sides of her tunic. "You can work on it and, if anything, it'll be a good way to pass the time when we have some downtime."

"How long do you think it's going to take us to get to Cipritine?"

"I'm not sure," Jana answers, pulling off her tunic and laying in on her other clothes before working at her shoes, leaving on her pants to use beneath her longer tunic beneath the double padded one. "But I don't think it'll be a short trip like it'd be for us back home. Jon seems to be planning for a long ride, so I take it we'll have some nights at least where the horses will need to take a break and we'll be making camp."

"Makes sense," Tali says to the sound of shuffling as she sorts through their pieces of equipment and tucks it into the smaller pack. "I don't know whether to be happy or sad that we're leaving the Normandy. I've gotten quite used to the ship, even if it's so isolating actually sailing in an empty ocean."

Jana hums in agreement as she drops her clothing onto the pile and grabs the corners of the leather beneath all her things and pulls them up and in before rolling the entire stack into a thick roll. The outer wrap has straps to keep it all tight and she double checks the room to make sure everything is packed before knotting the straps around her small collection of personal items. Her rolled-up pack looks much thicker than Tali's, but she can't imagine Tali is too worried about what she brings outside of her suit and its special equipment.

_Maybe we can earn some money to get something a little special just for us. Something that is less for survival and fitting in and more just to have a useless trinket that actually feels like_ _**ours** _ _._

Feeling Tali's expectant eyes on her half-naked form, Jana clears her throat and starts to work on tugging on the long, dark blue tunic that'll act as the lower layer to her armor set. She sets to work fastening the red gambeson on over it, not wanting to slow down the overall group much longer because she is taking her time daydreaming and not getting ready.

Though she doubts Palaven will have weather suited for fur collars, Jana wraps it around her shoulders just in case - and to keep from it getting lost in the fray of everything - before following it up with the thick waist belt. She then slips on the blue arm wraps and tightens the strap holding them together before she tucks them beneath the short sleeves of her gambeson before looking to Tali, picking up a pauldron with each hand.

"Can you help me fasten these?" she asks, lifting up her shoulders and holding her elbows away from her body in illustration. "I don't know if I can get them fastened under my arms by myself."

Tali sets the now stuffed pack on her bunk before nodding. "Of course," she says happily enough, apparently more than willing to help Jana get suited up.

Jana has a feeling she knows why Tali seems almost grateful to be helping. Putting on armor was such an intimate thing between Jana and Garrus as they helped each other with the pieces that would normally prove quite time consuming or just plain impossible to do alone. Even though Jana can't repay the favor to Tali at the moment, she feels a little less alone, a little less distanced from the world with just the simple act of her best friend being so willing to try and share that kind of tenderness even after all the times Jana fully believes she let her friend down by her failures in the Reaper war they left behind.

Pauldrons set and secured, Tali helps Jana loop the empty sword belt around her hips. With the tall, leather boots as the last pieces of her armor to be put on, Jana finishes just as a knock echoes off their door.

"You ready,  _Ylva_?" Jameson's voice asks through the wood and Tali gives Jana a confused look.

Mouthing 'I'll explain later' to Tali, Jana grabs her packed things and goes to the door. Opening it, she's met with the sight of Jameson in his own full set of metal armor. It's something she hadn't really taken notice of the first day they were thrown into this world and, seeing it now, it's quite impressive and suiting for him at the same time.

His helmet is open-faced but was made to look like the head of a bear, its metal teeth settled at the crown of Jameson's head. He still wears his trademark fur cloak, but his pauldrons look like the heads of some other kind of animal and his chest plate is made of layered, carved pieces that overlap the smaller set down his abdomen. His gauntlets have some kind of carvings along their tops, but she can't really determine if the pattern creates an image. He wears thick leather pants beneath a set of pieces of metal and fur that she isn't quite sure the name of, one on each hip and one laying as to protect his groin, but not enclose it. To finish up his overall look, he wears boots of metal and fur.

His armor is truly impressive - and definitely looks heavy and cumbersome in hindsight - but he wears it well and, in a way, Jana has to admit that it really suits Jameson.

"Damn," she says, eyebrows raised. "You look like …. Well, you look ready to go to war," she jokes with a light chuckle at the obvious.

Grinning, Jameson looks himself over as if he's taking his whole getup in. "Yeah, well, they don't call me 'The Bear' for nothing."

" _Keelah_ , that looks hot." Tali steps beside Jana, her rolled-up pack in hand and satchel full of tech thrown over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well … I've mostly been in human territories, so I'll probably have to modify the design a bit," he says with a shrug before chuckling. "But no amount of heat is going to get me to ditch the cloak."

Chuckling, Jana waves him to move so they can get going. "As if there was any question on that. We all know we'd see the Reapers sooner stop the war than you take that thing off."

Jameson laughs as he walks the deck, his heavy boots loud on the wood and his armor clinking as his body moves. Jana's happy that her own armor doesn't make as much noise, only her pauldrons being made of metal and only making noise if she purposely makes them shift about.

When the three make it down to the cargo deck, Jana can see that Liara and Jon are already preparing their horses for the ride. Jana can't say she's exactly thrilled to find out they'll be riding on a horse's back for this trip, but she also isn't surprised. She doesn't expect Jon to put forth the coin to get a comfort carriage just because she has a hard time riding on the back of a horse and there isn't really any other way than to walk on her own, but the truth in the situation still does little to make her feel much better about sharing Liara's horse again because she isn't a big fan of not having some kind of handle or grip to keep from falling off besides grabbing onto a part of Liara's saddle or awkwardly holding Liara herself.

"Ah, there you are," Jon says with a smile as he sees them approach. His smile widens as he takes Jana in and gives an approving nod. "It suits you, I'd say. The red really brings out the fire in your hair." Chuckling, he shrugs. "I don't know if your people put much to the color of people's hair, but red-haired people are said to be fueled by fire. I don't know what it is, but I have a feeling that's going to be right about you once we get you on a battlefield."

"I know it," Jameson says with a grin down to her before heading towards his own horse to throw his pack over its rear. "'S why I say she's a  _Ylva_."

Jon chuckles again and gives a slight, amused shake of his head before looking to Jana and Tali. "I hope you don't mind him giving you a nickname."

"No, it's alright." Jana shakes her head, adding, "We actually already spoke about it. I told him I'll be curious to hear the others."

Jon smiles and nods as he turns to the horses and waves for herself and Tali to follow him. "I sent a man to the Imperial Stables to buy us more horses and a wagon, but as you can see, they're being held up. We can head to the University without them," he says as he motions the fours horses they do have. "The five of us can meet Garrus and his guard there. We'll take the Gate to Taetrus and wait there for the crew. With luck, we won't be held up long, but it'd be nice to stop in Taetrus and alert the  _Prorex_ of our intentions if Garrus hasn't already sent word."

"So I guess we're sharing horses again?" Jana asks as she lets Liara take her pack and throw it over her horse's golden rear. "With the packs too? Is there room?"

Jon smiles and runs his hand down his own white horse's long forehead. "We were hoping you and Tali could ride Ashlin's horse while we take care of your packs," he says as he leaves his horse's side to lead them to a dark gray horse, its fur almost like a darkened blue-gray up close. "We can tie her horse to one of ours and lead her for you, but she should follow us without a huge problem this short distance anyway. Then, if Tali likes, she can ride one of the new horses we'll have join us later from the stables."

Tali makes a sound that shows her complete lack of excitement at the idea and wrings her hands a bit. "I don't know if I want to be on one of those things alone." She looks to Jon and tilts her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I don't really trust riding on one alone."

Jon smiles and holds up a hand. "Don't worry, Tali. From the sounds of it, horses are a very rare thing even for even humans where you're from. I can't imagine what it must be like for a quarian to see such an odd animal." Humming, he cups his chin and rubs his thumb along his jaw. "Let's see …. Maybe you can ride with me again? Was that comfortable for you? We can have my things put on another horse."

Tali is quiet and gives Jana a shy glance, thoughts seemingly running wild in her bright eyes. After a long moment of Jana trying to project some confidence in her friend, Tali seems to come to her conclusion and nods as she turns back to Jon. "If it's alright, I'd like to ride on your horse once we have enough to move your pack. I just …. It feels safer there," she says, almost too quiet for anyone to catch and Jana has to hide her knowing smile at her friend's growing affection for the man.

Jon's smile is warm, but a slight flicker of sadness fills his eyes for just a split second before he gives her a slow nod. "Of course. You can ride with me for as long as you'd like."

Tali looks to Jana, concern about overstepping some boundary clear in her eyes and posture, but Jana smirks and raises a brow in intrigue, quickly washing away Tali's worry. Instead, Tali seems to pout at attention being called towards her growing attraction and when she jerks her gaze away with a slight lift of her chin, Jana has to keep from laughing. She covers her mouth to hide her soft snort, acting like she's rubbing her chin in thought over the horses situation.

"Alright, so Tali will ride with me," she says as she looks between the members of the group gathered around to hear of Jon's plans. "When we get more horses, she can decide who she wants to ride with  _or_ ," she adds with a joking tone to her voice, "if she wants to ride alone. I'm sure we'll have enough."

" _Keelah_ ,  _ **no**_ _."_ Tali shakes her head, apparently adamant in not trying to stay atop a bouncing horse by herself, and Jon laughs as Jana chuckles at her friend. She's pretty sure Tali would be glaring holes in her at bringing up an idea  _not_ to ride with Jon if he wasn't right next to them to catch the look.

"Alright, so we have a plan." Jon claps his hands together and motions the gray horse whose fur is actually pretty in the slight varying tones seemingly in each strand of its fur. "Here, I'll help you up," he says as he moves to stand beside the horse. "Jana, you're up first on the stirrup."

Jana nods and goes to the horse's side, standing in front of Jon as she slips her outer foot into the stirrup and takes a hold of the saddle with both hands. She takes a second to adjust to the awkward position before bouncing a few tries and finally jumping into the stirrup to pull herself up, positioning her leg over the saddle and into the opposite stirrup.

"I can help you up, Tali," Jon says as he squats and cups his hands and offers them as a step up.

Tali nods and Jana grabs one of her hands for support and Tali's other lands on Jon's shoulder as she pushes up into his grip and onto the horse. It's obvious Tali's still nervous riding outside of a saddle for the second time and Jana isn't bothered when her friend wraps her arms around her for stability.

"Don't worry," Jon says with a smile. "We'll walk to the University, so there won't be any jostling like before."

Jana huffs in relief as Tali visibly relaxes behind her. "That's good to hear," Jana says as she takes the reins from Jon. "Someone will be close in case I lose control, though, right?"

Chuckling, Jon pets the horse's neck as he nods. "Jameson will ride next to you.  _Alfi_  - the horse - is well mannered. Ashlin's been riding her since I met her, so she'll take care of you."

Jana nods as she watches Jameson walk his horse over to them when Jon leaves to mount his horse.

"Never been to the University myself," he says, jerking his chin towards a paved path that curves around the perimeter of the Citadel just as the bridge to Zakera intersects with the land again before reaching the large doors of the Citadel itself. "I hear it's quite a sight but few people get to use the Imperial Gate, so it's mostly for scholars, dignitaries, and important military movements."

"And everyone else just walks or takes horses … or ships?" Tali asks, sounding a bit incredulous. "That seems like it'd take forever."

Jameson frowns in confusion just as Jon joins them to catch the last bit of Tali's sentence.

"How do you travel in your realm? You said horses are rare so …." Jon trails off, obviously unsure of what other options there could really be.

Jana hums in thought, guiding her horse beside Jon's and Jameson's, each on one side as Liara walks her horse slightly behind and to Jon's other side. "Well, I doubt you'd believe us, but everything we have is run on the same kind of tech we told you about. They're machines, but way more advanced versions than, say, your huge Conveyor in the Tower."

Liara lets out a sharp exhale, eyes widening a moment. "And that's the most advanced machine we have in all of Alysim … besides maybe the Crucible, but I'm not the most skilled at reading schematics of machines and mystical devices, so I could be wrong about the Crucible's complexity and inner workings."

"Sounds incredible," Jon says, voice wistful as he looks up at the curving outer wall of the Citadel as they guide their horses down the path that separates from the direct path between the main doors and the paved one that leads into the large bridge to Zakera.

The path is paved like all the others around the Citadel, but it's well worn - perhaps by many who wish to avoid the worst traffic within the Citadel for perhaps finding another route in that's closer to their destined district. Jana hasn't seen it, but she has a feeling that there's another main gate coming in from roads rather than only the one from Zakera. In fact, that other gate or gates may very well be the actual  _main_ gate and possibly much grander and visually impressive than the one from the docks because traveling the roads through Thessia is obviously the more common means of travel for the average man and woman and the Citadel is anything if not flashy for visitors.

Jana hums in agreement at the wonder of the technology of the world they left beyond now that she's seen quite a bit of this world. Still, though, Alysim sounds like it has a kind of power her reality thought only things of tall tales and myths. Magic may be close to biotics, but EDI herself is a very drastic change from the AI of Jana's universe and seems to be made of something that can't quite be explained so easily as technology of electricity, mechanical parts, and programming. Even if the actual evolution of artificial intelligence is still a debatable topic back home, Jana's sure people's minds would be blown to hear of things like golems and whatever magical fountain EDI even is.

Though she's not quite well accustomed to the Citadel yet to gauge distances and sizes of districts from outside its walls and with no vantage point above it all to see the actual divisions made with its guard walls, Jana is sure they've walked at least far enough to be considered past Kithoi. She isn't sure until she actually sees a new, sectioned off part of the Citadel further up ahead that she thinks she may be seeing The University or something else leading into a different district and that they may have traveled far enough to be just outside the perimeter walls of a very new district.

Jon gently nudges her and Tali, smiling when Jana - and obviously Tali - glance his way.

"That's the Imperial University just within those walls," he says softly with a lift of his chin towards the smaller, but still impressive, structure encircled by its own tall walls. "Try not to let the magisters bother you. They can be a bit … eccentric."

"No doubt because they spend all day, every day, nose deep in books and magic of grandeur instead of with real people," Jameson says conspiratorially as he leans over so his lowered voice can be heard.

Jana chuckles but doesn't respond as her gaze returns to the University as they draw closer.

It's connected to the Citadel by a long bridge of its own, but instead of crossing open water, it crosses over a section of the ground that naturally dips down to unintentionally create a nice underpass for citizens before it rises back again to where the University sits. Jana can see just enough over the walls to see a main structure that, while tall, pales greatly in comparison to the actual Citadel Tower. Still, it's impressive and reminds her of a tall central tower of some kind of castle and she has a feeling it's only a small part of what lies within the actual walls of this little offset of the massive city.

The group is quiet as they cross the bridge towards the tall wooden gates inlaid with metal designs of what Jana can only assume are some kind of symbols from magic or higher education set into the golden and white stone wall. A set of Citadel guards stand at the gate, both clad in what Jana's come to realize as the Guard's official armor of white and gold. Both guards are turian, no doubt for the impressive sight of intimidation they pose as the protectors of such a valuable asset to the Citadel and the people the Citadel species' nation - or whatever exactly it is she's supposed to equate Eros to.

One of the turians, a dark brown with brightened orange-red markings steps in the center of the alcove built into the bridge for the University's entrance and holds up his hand with a low rumble. "I'll need some kind of proof of sanction to enter the University, Captain Shepard."

Smiling, Jon reaches into a saddlebag on his horse and retrieves a scroll, no doubt the one from the Council now making him an official Templar once more. "I come by the Council's authority, respectful  _vordur_ ," he says as he hands over the scroll that Jana can now see bears a golden wax seal already broken from being previously unraveled back at the Citadel Tower.

The turian hums, the sound like a gentle buzz as he reads before giving a firm nod. "Very well. Congratulations on your reinstatement, Templar Shepard," he says with a genuine rumble of respect and a slight dip of his head before he steps aside. "You may enter."

Jana thinks it odd that the guards don't offer to open the doors, but soon comes to realize they don't have to as, when Jon leads his horse closer, the doors emit a soft glow of light around a circular symbol at the very center of their joining before slowly shifting, opening inward into the University. Jana gives the guard a quick nod of respect as she passes, but doesn't have her focus on him for very long as she comes into the University's open yard and finally gets a good look at the entire structure.

Try to her suspicions, the Imperial University really is more than the single tower that can be seen from outside. The tower itself sits further back, but the castle itself has arms that curve along the outer wall, creating a kind of crescent around the central courtyard where they all stand among a few collections of trees and flora in small planters and apparent magisters mingling in quiet gatherings.

What truly leaves her at a loss for words is the massive …. She doesn't know how to think of it as anything besides some kind of  _portal,_  framed in carved stone similar to the obelisk on this side of the strange convergence of realities that brought her here. Though the symbols in the frame have obviously been carved by someone's hands, it's actual shape is more organic in stark contrast to the elegant curves and sharp angles of the Citadel's - and now University's - architecture. It even has a small section on one side that curves off of the main body of the fantastical looking portal to make the bottom slightly wider before becoming more uniformly oblique.

The portal  _itself_? How can she put it beyond that very word, 'fantastical?'

Within the stone frame is the sight of  _space_ , of a glowing, swirling nebula of purples, blues, and aqua. It's flat, like looking through a viewport, but Jana knows it's so much more than that just by the  _sensation_  it radiates, the tension and static electricity it fills the air around them with.

"Is  _that_ the Imperial Gate?" Tali asks, voice cracking in shock. "What …. What  _is_ it?"

Jon smiles and glances over to her before letting his gaze move back to the portal. "Yes, this is the Gate. It's said to be the biggest in Eros, maybe all of Alysim too. As to what it is …." He hums and scratches his cheek. "Well, it's like a doorway. There's this natural magic that stretches all across the realm called Fracture-"

"It's more than mere  _magic_ ," an asari says, her face creased in wrinkles as she scoffs and approaches them from a small gathering of scholars -  _magisters, Jon called them_. She wears the whitest of all the robes Jana's seen both within this courtyard and the Citadel Tower's elevator chambers. "Fracture is a  _phenomenon_ , as unknowable as it is beautiful. Even I, in all my lifetime, haven't come close to seeing all it is that it encompasses."

As the asari comes up beside them, her golden facial paints matching the intricate gold stitching throughout her flowing robes, Jon ducks his head and chuckles awkwardly.

"My apologies, Archmagister Dilinaga."

The obvious Matriarch waves it away with a soft huff of breath before holding up her hand. "I suppose you're here under great authority, Captain Shepard. Be it the King sending you for Terra?"

"In a way," Jon says with a smile, offering the scroll he hadn't bothered in putting away. "I actually have permission from the Council."

She reads through the scroll before smiling warmly and offering it back. "Templar, hm? Congratulations, Templar. It's good to see a grand Templar back in service to Council once more. Speaking of, we have Templar Kryik here for matters associated with his mate. Calling in a favor as a Templar, of course," she adds with an exasperated shake of her head.

Jana looks up just in time to catch Garrus, now clad in a light style of black armor coupled with a small cloak that drapes down his back between his wings, coming towards them with his guard at his back but also with  _Nihlus - deceased - Kryik_. The older turian looks just like the Nihlus that had died in her universe, save for a pair of deep gouges down over his left eye and an eye patch to cover the obviously useless and blind eye.

_With the kind of wound to cause those scars, I'm surprised he's not just as dead as my own universe's version._

When Garrus catches sight of them, he smiles as their gazes meet and Jana's forced to look away and feign interest in something else to stifle that flutter of warmth just beneath her ribs. Luckily, Jon saves her having to try and find a reason to avoid the approaching sight of a version of her lost love for long when he raises a hand before tucking the scroll into one of his saddlebags.

"Hail, Nihlus!" Jon smiles and offers his hand in another firm forearm grip as he had done with Garrus when they met. "I hear you've brought Ashlin here to be seen by the magisters."

The tall - taller than Garrus even - turian wears a long black tunic that's back trails down further than the front that ends just at his thighs and has golden clasps on either side of the curve of his keel that shine in the sunlight whenever he shifts. He hums as he looks over the group and focusing on Jana for only a split second before giving Garrus a glance of something unspoken for an even quicker moment and looking to Jon, rumbling softly.

"Yes. The doctors at Huerta Memorial have done what they could, but the magisters know ways to heal faster than any doctor's science or healer's concoctions." He thrums softly, almost grateful as he half-smiles at Jon. "Not that your healer and Doctor Chakwas didn't do their fair share in Ashlin's healing. I just suspect the magisters have …  _means_  outside of mere science and potions and salves."

Jon nods, apparently understanding as Jana is left to only assume that the magisters must really have magic spells like Jameson claimed that could amazingly help in healing. Perhaps, they may very well have just that, which would be one of the best ways to heal people in the coming war because God knows they'll have plenty of grievously wounded people. Although, a pessimistic part of her suspects that the University might not actually be seeing much people who don't necessarily qualify as 'the elite' if the Archmagister calling helping Ashlin Nihlus 'calling in a favor as a Templar."

"I hope you're right, Nihlus, I really do." Jon frowns and lays his closed fist on his chest plate, just above his heart. "I feel so much responsibility for her getting injured as badly as she did at Mars."

Nihlus rumbles in reassurance as he gives his head a slight shake. "Don't worry yourself over it. Ashlin knows the risks in this war. And she's already showing great signs of improvement. Fantastic, I'd even say." He smiles with a deep thrum of genuine happiness that makes Jana shift in the saddle.

_Didn't the Archmagister say '_ _**mate** _ _?' As in a lover kind of mate? I never would have imagined …. Ash …._

"She may even be conscious by the time you return from Palaven," Nihlus says as he takes a half step back and looks between Garrus and Jon. "I'll be joining you if that's the case. You'll be needing all the help you can get …. And I know Ashlin will be ready to join us in no time too."

Jon smiles warmly and flattens his hand over his chest with a firm nod. "I'm sure we all look forward to having you aboard the Normandy and with us."

Nihlus nods with a slight smile of his own before turning to Garrus. He lays a firm hand on Garrus' shoulder with a slight hum before giving a firm nod and leaving them, heading back towards the main tower of the University.


	9. The Diluvian Valley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _Proditor(s)_  (turian) - Traitor(s)
> 
>  _Ignavus_  (turian) - Coward
> 
>  _Vidal_  (turian)(vid-all) - A name that means 'vital'
> 
>  _Noth(i)_  turian) - Bastards(s); refers to turians only
> 
> Captain Cato Cassius belongs to [Wafflesrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wafflesrock/profile)

Jana and Tali follow the others' example and dismount from their horse, holding the reins as they line up before the portal. She isn't sure what to expect from the experience of going through but has a feeling that the fact they've all gotten off their horses might mean that there's going to at least be some kind of odd sensation. At least one noticeable enough to bother the horses so that they've all given their mounts the freedom of no heavy rider on their backs to add to the stress.

"Have you ever been through a Rift Gate?" Garrus asks her, suddenly feeling too close as his warm presence washes over her. He rumbles before the sound cuts off into a hum. "No wait …. Of course you haven't. You came on the Normandy and you're not … from here …." He trails off, rubbing his neck as he looks forward at the Imperial Gate before glancing awkwardly at her, mandibles fluttering. "I'm probably making you think it's going to be bad, but it won't be …. Don't worry. Really. It's not bad at all, just …."

"Different?" Tali supplies, an obvious hint of tender amusement in her voice that has Jana relaxing slightly beside the tall turian that shares her late husband's … well,  _everything_  save for the scars.

Garrus lets out a deep breath before nodding with a smile. "Yeah, different. That's a perfect way of putting it."

This close to him, Jana finds herself stealing glances of his new attire, somewhat more suited for him than the fancy tunic he was wearing back in the Citadel Tower. She doesn't know why - and she may just be projecting from her own life with her Garrus - but this Garrus just seemed so out of place in obviously higher-class clothing. He seemed almost uncomfortable at the attention he was getting in the glances from dignitaries he passed and, knowing he's a  _Prince_  and hoping he's at least something like her Garrus, she thinks he may not be one to enjoy the limelight.

His armor seems to be made of thick, black leather with decorate straps spreading out at a diagonal from the central point of his keel where a large, engraved dragon sits, its wings spread up and around to form a kind of black metal badge. His cloak clasps at the same badge and she can see he has a hood as he pulls it up and over a decorative, blue and gold shawl he's had draped over his fringe since they met. The rest of his armor covers him from head to toe in a kind of scaling effect, overlapping pieces trailing down his torso, down the sides of his legs and with an extra flap covering his groin.

The only parts of his body not covered in this intricate leather armor are his wings, fingers and, strangely, his taloned toes.

A wooden bow with sharp curves in the main body and a decorative metal plating that matches his armor is on his person, its body lying partially across one side of his back - tucked into the crook of his wing - and arm as its taut string crosses down the front of his body. A large quiver of arrows is angled in just a way between his wings and on his back that he can grab one with ease. Judging from his chosen weapon, Jana can guess the reason for his bare fingers, but his toes still leave her wondering if it's simply an 'Atheling Garrus' thing or something quite a few turians do. She can't tell with his Praetorian Guard if their boots merely cover the tops of their toes and has a feeling calling attention to the possibility might be some kind of taboo so she keeps the curiosity to herself, perhaps it being something they could talk about at a later date.

After all, turians  _are_  treated differently because of their wings from the short mention back in the Citadel Tower and look the Doyen gave even a prince of the turian people.

She doesn't look away until she catches Garrus' gaze on her in a sideways glance and she snaps back to their gathering towards the portal, humming as she leads  _Afli_  forward.

Jon is first to lead his white stallion through the portal, disappearing as if he's entering and passing through the sight of the nebula within and onto the other side. Jana looks to Tali in surprise when Liara follows after, neither seen among the nebula's swirling clouds and sparkling stars. Tali wrings her hands a bit in nervousness, but Jameson nudging her with his elbow and smiling seems to calm her.

"Don't worry. It's just like stepping through a door," he says as he goes next.

"Yeah," Jana says with a huff of disbelief at the sight of his horse's rear disappearing into the pane of space. "Maybe more like quite literally going through the door itself."

She hears Garrus' soft, but amused rumble and she glances his way to see him smiling down to her. "If it helps, I can go with you two. The portal's big enough for all of us if we want. Jon just likes to take it slow for his horses."

Jana can't help the smile on her lips as she nods in acceptance.

 _Damn him for getting to me like this so easily …. Damn_ _**me** _ _for letting him!_

"Alright, now or never," she says as she gently pulls  _Afli's_ reins to encourage her forward.

She can't stop herself from reactively closing her eyes as she steps into the portal, but the sensation that surrounds her isn't as unpleasant as she was preparing for. Much like hitting a Relay back in her universe, there's a moment of weightlessness before she feels a unique, overwhelming warmth surround her, engulfing her inside and out. It feels like the deep embrace of a lover, so close that their hearts beat together as one, and definitely isn't something she feels from Relays, but nonetheless a welcome experience in comparison to her fears.

Just as suddenly as the portal's power washed over her, it's gone, replaced by a much drier, heated temperature in the air and the sounds of life. She opens her eyes to the sight of a much different city than the Citadel, full of turians and the sound of the life much more active than the lonely Presidium but calmer that the overactive bustling of the Zakera District and its docks.

The portal they've come out of seems to be just outside of the city's main body as it stretches up along an incline and is even built against and into the taller cliffside. Opposite the city itself is flatter land of fields and spatterings of farms or gatherings of only a handful of homes. The city doesn't possess the large walls of the Citadel - only a few guard towers overlooking the expanse between the city proper and the flatlands of its rural area - but Jana can tell the high vantage and rear protection of the cliffside gives a great advantage than she originally thought should anyone try to attack across the land.

Not that she'd expect anything like a full-blown attack to come at a turian city from what seems to be a land made of steep cliffs, dangerous dropoffs, and natural towers of rock laid out across the horizon.

 _This must be Palaven_.

She catches Garrus' eyes and he smiles lightly, fluttering his mandibles. "Welcome to Taetrus, Jana," he says as he looks across the city and its outlying fields. "We've just passed through the Trebian Gate," he adds as he draws her attention back behind them towards this side of the portal showing a glimpse of space where two suns seem to rest within a deep red, orange, and bronze nebula.

"It's beautiful," she says, truthfully interested in the design of the city. "Is all of Palaven like this?"

Garrus hums and gives a slight nod. "Palaven is a land made of deadly cliffs and harsh heats." He huffs, anxiousness in his buzzing vocals as he glances down to her. "That's what everyone says about it anyways …. But it's my home."

Jana smiles at the pride he has for his home that, apparently by other species' accounts, is an inhospitable place to live. "I can see where the wings come in handy, now."

Garrus laughs and nods, flexing his wings a bit as if to illustrate the fact. "Yeah, living here is no big deal when you can easily fly where you need to go."

She fights not to reach over and make physical contact - feed some kind of hope that a spark would ignite something between them as if she's touching her lost love - but keeps to herself as she looks out over the horizon. "It's definitely not like any place I've seen, but I can tell how the steep valleys and tall cliffs can create quite a view." She smiles at his happy thrum and nods. "I look forward to seeing more as we travel."

"Atheling," one of his guards say - the female who carries the name of one of Jana's husband's lost team members from his time as Archangel, Mierin. "The Captain of the guard approaches."

Jon nods and turns sideways to Garrus, motioning for him to step forward. "These are your people, Garrus," he says with a slight smile. "I wouldn't want to step on any toes."

Garrus rumbles with a huff and soft flick of his mandible, seemingly not someone that enjoys standing before his people as a higher rank of power, especially when it seems like he's joined Jon more as a partner than a Prince joining a Templar. The friendship is obvious between the two and, to Jana, it feels like Garrus is one who tends to avoid any mention of his title while around Jon and his crew.

_Perhaps he doesn't really like the attention and authority that comes with being an Atheling when he's around Jon. As if he doesn't like being considered greater than his friends and prefers to be treated as an equal._

Jana thinks the command might really suit him as he stiffens his back and lifts his chin, mandibles laying against his jaw as he rumbles at the guard Captain's respectful dip of his head. Jana's Garrus, despite his protests and painful betrayal, was a good leader and she can already tell the Atheling is as well. He wouldn't have been at the Citadel, seeking aid for his people and unity between the species to fight the Reapers if he didn't ultimately have a mind for the greater whole of his people, the entire realm even.

"Atheling Garrus," the Captain of the Taetrian guard says with a hum to his vocals, curling the fingers of his right hand and holding it to his heart in some kind of salute to the Prince. "We have been expecting you for some time after word of the Council's refusal to aid Palaven. My name is Captain Cato Cassius," the dark gray turian says, his voice smooth and low in an almost odd kind of similarity with the calming curves of his cream-colored markings that spread across his face, "The Taetrian Guard is at your service."

Garrus hums as he looks over the man in a slate gray set of armor that seems to have been made in a similar fashion to the other guards passing by, though perhaps with more flair in the minute details and design than the simpler ones of the average guard. Rumbling, the Captain then glances to Jon and dips his head in greeting.

"Captain Shepard, I hadn't expected the Alliance to send any kind of representation, but you are equally as welcome in Taetrus." Cassius hums before flicking his mandibles as his gaze moves to Garrus. "I know better than to suspect you haven't heard of Cipritine," he says and Garrus' mandibles twitch, but he doesn't show any sign of upset over the Reapers attacking his home in front of the Captain - not yet, at least. "I've already sent as many of my men as I can afford to aid the Primacy, else I'd offer an escort. As it is now, I have only enough men to guard the Gate. I intend to be prepared for the influx of refugees flooding Taetrus in order to escape Palaven through it."

"Very good," Garrus says with a nod, rumbling as he looks over Taetrus. "And what of the people of Taetrus? Have you begun to evacuate?"

Captain Cassius makes a low rumble as he follows Garrus' eyes. "Unfortunately,  _Prorex_ Idus Valen has not issued an evacuation order." The man lets out a deep exhale as his brow plates lower. "Taetrus is such a vital part of Palaven's commerce and connects us to the rest of Eros. We can't afford for the city to become abandoned with still so many turians in Palaven."

Garrus growls low, but nods. "Protect the armory, distribute armor and weapons to anyone willing to fight, and spread your men through the surrounding areas. Things seem under control now, but as soon as the Reapers fully take Cipritine, it's only a matter of time before they spread across Palaven."

"My thoughts, exactly, Atheling." The Captain hums a moment before flicking his mandibles a few times. "My only concern is the presence of remaining separatists still assaulting trade along the roads cutting through the Diluvian Valley. I just don't have the men to track the  _proditors_ down to where they're hiding in their ratholes," he says with a growl and balls his fists. "If I could, I'd have those men I  _do_ have searching, but I can't spare them or the time."

"Perhaps we can help?" Jon offers, handing his reins to Liara before stepping forward. "The Valley is a way into Taetrus for many people, isn't it? Then we can always spare at least some time to search the area while we wait for the rest of our supplies to arrive." He looks to Garrus as if for agreement and Garrus rumbles, nodding as his body seems to relax slightly in relief that they can at least help his people somewhat while they're here.

"I won't say no to the aid," Cassius says with an obvious hum of gratitude. "Even if you don't happen to find them all, they're too stupid not to have at least some of them come out of hiding any chance they get to rob people on the roads."

"Even if we only manage to find one, that's one less  _ignavus_  to harass decent people and pay for the attack on Taetrus," Garrus adds with a low thrum of irritation before he turns to Jon. "What do you say myself and my guard get our  _lacertas_ and we all see if we can entice some separatist cowards into trying to rob us?"

Jon chuckles softly and nods. "They'll be sorry they tried."

"I can have my men bring you your  _lacertas_ ," the Captain says, dipping his head as he turns to a pair of turian guards standing at attention further down the path leading up to the Gate. "Retrieve the Atheling and his Praetorians' mounts."

"Sir!" they both respond, stiffening their backs before hurrying away from the Gate and down towards the guard towers and sparse buildings marking the outer perimeter of Taetrus.

Captain Cassius returns his gaze to the group and rumbles as he clasps his hands behind his back, addressing Jon. "It's regretful to say that Taetrus doesn't have the gold to repay you for any separatist bounties you may fulfill." Humming, he glances aside at the distance before giving a stern nod and flicking his mandibles. "But I'm willing to pay out of my own pocket for any one of those  _proditors_ you kill. It's not much, but how does five Royals a head sound?"

Garrus makes a short scoff, but nods. "I'm sure Jon will accept even if you  _didn't_ pay the bounties, but your  _Prorex_  can't expect anyone to put forth the effort and risk themselves to kill separatists for a mere five hundred gold a head."

Cassius rumbles an agreement and nods. "Yes, but  _Prorex_ Valen has diverted any gold we could use on bounties to rebuilding. I won't ask for more gold for the guard just to use it on bounty hunters when I could be preparing them for war." He lets out an almost exhausted sounding breath. "So it's my own gold as reward and I've little for the entirety of remaining separatists."

"You don't have to pay us, Captain," Jon says with a smile and motions the group. "We won't stand by while people are attacked on the roads, so if we come across any separatists, we'll happily get rid of them for you. They're nothing more than bandits in my eyes."

The Captain rumbles in thanks and dips his head, but says, "I can't rightfully allow aid to go unrewarded. I may change my mind at a later date when my gold is all but gone, but I trust you to do a good job clearing the way for incoming refugees. I'll repay you with more than grateful words, Captain."

"It's actually Templar, now," Garrus says with a hum. "The Council has reinstated Shepard as Templar and he has the proof on his person."

"I trust you, Atheling. I'll make my men aware of your proper title, Templar." Looking down the small descent towards where the two guards he sent earlier are returning with some kind of …  _reptiles_ , the Captain thrums as his gaze sweeps over the area of Taetrus and the land just beyond its gates. "If you'll excuse me," he says with a straight-backed nod, "I must see to matters with my men."

Everything after those words fall deaf on Jana's ears as she stares, wide-eyed at the two guards leading a group of four large -  _very large -_ lizards towards them. She figures these must be the ' _lacerta'_ mentioned, but she can't really imagine anyone riding the backs of what looks like giant versions of monitor lizards despite the obvious saddles and packs on their backs.

With bodies easily the size of Jameson's horse, the  _lacerta_ have tails as long as their bodies but shorter legs than the humans' mounts. Their heads sway as they swing their legs in their swaggering walk, long tongues flicking out occasionally to taste the air. Three are a plain brownish-gray while the fourth has a body the color of a black that shines blue in the sunlight. Faded white spots line its sides, but it's obvious in the look of it that it must be Garrus' mount with its flourish of scale colors and higher quality looking gear.

"Those are lizards," Tali whispers to her and Jana nods, sharing in the shock and disbelief.

_Foxes were one thing, but now riding lizards?_

Garrus rumbles and Jana looks up to see his half-smile. "They're not as bad as everyone makes them seem. They look worse than they really are."

Jana huffs and gives him a nervous smile. "I just haven't seen a lizard so big before. It's a pretty big shock."

"They're  _lacerta_ ," one of Garrus' guards, Severus, points out with an annoyed hum. "Not just some average  _lizard_."

"Keep your pointless semantics to yourself, Severus." Garrus growls softly at the other turian before jerking his head towards Jana. "She can call  _Vidal_  whatever she likes," he says with a low buzz to his vocals as he flicks a mandible at her. "It's not like he'll mind it."

Jana smiles softly at Garrus but doesn't speak as the guards arrive with the  _lacerta_. He leaves her then, heading to the blue-black one and climbing into the saddle. With his height, sitting on top of the large reptile's back puts him close to level with the others on horses. It makes her feel a little less awkward about the ride together because she can't imagine having to look at a big downward angle in order to have a conversation with the otherwise towering turians.

Part of her actually likes the idea of being closer to the ground on a  _lacerta_  instead of atop the horse she's boosting Tali jump up onto. The fact that it's an obviously predatory  _lizard_  gives her pause, but as she wedges her foot in the stirrup to push herself up and onto the saddle, she admits that she'd be willing to bet her money on Garrus' claim that their mounts are well trained to act in spite of their appearance if it keeps her from the jostling the horses give when running.

_What am I saying? I don't even know how lacerta even run …. They could be so much worse!_

"Ready?" Jon asks, bringing his horse around in a circle to look over the others before giving a nod at their affirmative responses. "Good. Let's head to the Diluvian Valley and see if we can't entice an ambush." He chuckles and his gaze lands on Garrus. "If you were a bit more flashy, I'd say it'd be a sure thing."

Garrus huffs, rumbling as he flutters his mandibles a bit. "Crowns and opulence don't really suit me …."

Severus makes a low sound of agreement, but Jana almost misses it. Still, the older Sidonis jerks his head to the younger turian and gives a sharp growl of reprimand, but it seems to fall on deaf ears as Severus merely pushes his  _lacerta_ to move with the rest of the group as they set off.

_Interesting …. Garrus either doesn't hear or chooses to ignore the guy. I wonder why he's getting away with so much insubordination here and back at the Citadel._

It's obvious that Severus has some kind of importance in the Hierarchy because of just how much he has been getting away with saying and doing, but she doesn't know where he stands in the line of succession, of how much authority he actually has to make him think he can be so disrespectful to his people's Prince. She knows her Garrus' body language well enough to be able to see that this Garrus is more than irritated with the other turian, but that he's getting away with so much seems odd. Whatever the reason, it must be a pretty damn good one for Garrus not to take that obvious frustration out on Severus, leaving it to his other Praetorians to get after him instead.

There's a comfortable quiet that falls over the group as they ride, their mounts walking at a reasonable pace considering the intent to ride most of the day once Jon's crew manages to bring the rest of the horses and carriage through the Gate. Jana isn't quite sure exactly  _how_ long a horse can walk - let alone a  _lacerta_  - but she remembers vids talking about grand trips that could take all day on a horse's back before having to camp. By the sounds of the others' conversations about the ride and their intent to get to Cipritine as soon as possible, she thinks that there may be some pretty good truth in the vids concerning a horse's endurance and if Garrus apparently rode  _lacertas_ to get here on his previous trip to the Citadel, then the giant reptiles must also be well equipped for a drawn-out journey.

Up ahead of them are gradually - and some not so much - growing cliffs and mountainous formations of large rocks that frame smaller valleys where the road winds over and around much calmer hills and rises. Houses and structures are built on the ground and in the cliffsides alike, nowhere seemingly too dangerous for the turian people to settle. The road they're on branches in multiple directions once it reaches the outskirts of the last of Taetrus' farmlands, but there's a particular road that leads in between a sloping mountain and straight cliff alongside a river.

"That's the Diluvian Valley," Mierin says, shifting her reins to point out the valley for Jon.

"Seems pretty out of the way," Jameson says as he looks between the turian and Jon. "The Captain really think that's where they'll be?"

"While not an all-out war, Taetrus and its surrounding area was strife with civil conflict coming from a group of separatist traitors," Garrus explains with a low growl as if the entire thing left a bad taste in his mouth. "While we should have been planning for the Reapers, Taetrus was dealing with skirmishes breaking out because of a small group of turians that still think humans were forgiven too easily for their actions in the battle of Charon's Gate."

Jon frowns but doesn't add to the conversation, but Jana knows that Alysim is close enough to her universe to know what the 'battle of Charon's Gate' translates to in her reality.

"We called it the First Contact War," she says, biting her lip as she looks up the gradually rising incline of a mountain they're now passing on their trek into the valley and gives a slight nod. "I can see how some turians didn't think humanity paid enough for what happened, but then again, humanity thought the same of the turians. We activated a Relay without knowing the rules against it …. A Relay is sort of like a Gate."

Jon nods and hums, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Yeah. Humans didn't know that we were supposed to wait for contact from the Council before we rushed into activating the Gate of Charon. We didn't really know how to use Fracture and the Council was afraid we'd start a war on the first peoples we came into contact with …." He huffs and shakes his head slightly. "And we kind of did when the turians came to investigate."

"You're people didn't know," Garrus says with a reassuring rumble, flicking his mandible when that seems to help Jon and Jameson relax in their saddles. "It's a reasonable reaction to throw up defenses at our reaction. I admit my father acted a bit quickly and didn't take in the situation - but we didn't know if humans were like the krogan either."

Nodding, Jon smiles at Garrus. "It was a mess on all sides. Don't worry, Garrus. I know neither I nor Jameson have any hard feelings towards your dad or your people."

"Yeah," Jameson agrees, shrugging slightly. "I wasn't exactly there to know what happened and who drew first blood. It was everyone being stupid all at once."

A soft chuckle passes over the group - save for the too self-important Severus who's been deceptively quiet this whole time - and Jana breathes a soft sigh of relief that at least the feelings the turian separatists have aren't shared by Garrus and his turian guards. She wasn't all that aware of what happened in the galaxy while she was dead despite the missing human colonies and Collector attacks, but she's sure there was some kind of civil unrest on her universe's Taetrus because a group of turians still held a torch for racist anti-human beliefs.

"But on the whole, Taetrus doesn't have to worry about the separatists, right?" Jana looks to Garrus with raised brows in concern. "I mean, besides the attacks on the roads, the Captain isn't having to fight a war with your own people  _while_ trying to evacuate people and fight the Reapers?"

Garrus nods with a slight hum, offering a soft smile. "Yeah …. The General in charge of the direct battles is a friend of my father's - a Praetorian Guard too. He did excellent work dismantling the haphazard separatist army before he returned to Cipritine to help plan for the Reapers."

A rattle of pebbles rolling down the straight cliffside at their side cuts off anyone's response and everyone immediately reacts, setting their hands on their weapons and shifting in their saddles to get a good look at the high rises of the valley surrounding them. Jana doesn't have a weapon, so she's tense as she lifts her eyes to try and catch any movement from either side, unsure if they'll be ambushed from both heights or only the cliff's side where a direct view is obscured. She hears one of the turians hum low, the sound like the white noise of static on a vidscreen.

It happens fast when the attack finally springs and she's surrounded by numerous voices calling out as they catch sight of the separatist attackers above screaming out unintelligible sounds and vocals as they pour from crevices in the cliff wall, their wings spread wide. The four turians in her band of soldiers immediately kick off their  _lacertas,_ shooting straight up to meet the ambush before the separatists can try to swoop down or launch arrows at the rest of them who lack any way of getting off the ground to even the odds.

There are maybe twelve separatists attacking - though she's not sure the number with Garrus and his Praetorians now silhouetted against and shadowed by the sun along with their enemy - their armors and weapons obviously thrown together from scraps they've picked up off the battlefield or merchants they've robbed. Besides Garrus, who she knows is an acher, there seem to be three other turians with bows while the others are equipped with handheld weapons, some also wielding shields. Thankfully, it seems only Mierin can harness magic because Jana isn't sure just how powerful a mage can be in this world, of how much damage they can inflict. Even though Liara's a mage as well, Jana's never actually seen her dealing blows against a living being and not that solid rock creature that attacked and gravely injured Ashlin.

Jon, Jameson, and Liara jump off their horses, letting the animals break away from the group to safety a ways down the road and Jana and Tali share a look before following suit. Even if they can't do anything, maybe they'll be lucky and have a weapon drop or something so they can at least defend themselves or one of the others. Tali, Jana knows, has to stay out of this fight, and she's willing to act as a guard for her friend even if it means she's blindly swinging a sword, hammer, axe, or even using a bow to bludgeon people with.

At the sound of a harsh bark of pain amongst the clash of metal, Jana's attention shoots up in time to see one of the separatists falling, alive but with one of his wings too damaged by a blade to keep him in the air. He manages to catch himself well enough when he hits the ground, but just as soon as he's straight again, Jon and Jameson are on him, forcing the turian to block and dodge incoming blows.

A sword falls to the ground just steps from Jana and, fearing the feeling of being completely unarmed, she backs Tali to the cliffside before sprinting forward for the sword. She snatches the blade up, surprised at the weight in her hand - both light enough that she'll be able to swing fast and easily, but heavy enough that she knows it'll cause damage - and glances up in time to see another separatist duck beneath a visible burst of air that shoots forth from Mierin's crooked staff. The separatist female then flaps her wings with a forceful flick and charges Mierin, mace cracking down on another barrier before Mierin tips herself out of the way of a second blow.

Two separatists have flown down to aid their comrade against Liara, Jon, and Jameson's attacks. Liara's rose staff glistens with magic as she seems to create a type of barrier around Jon and Jameson, clearly deflecting grazing attacks from drawing blood. In return, Jon and Jameson keep the separatists away from her, keeping their attention away from their mage support.

Bodies fall to the ground, too injured - even dead - by the sharpened weapons of the Praetorian Guard or spouting very strategically placed arrows. Jana wouldn't have expected anyone else but Garrus, the only archer in their group, would have the skill to take down separatists with only a few well-placed shots, but it's still surprising to see the accuracy he has with such a primitive weapon as compared to her sniper rifle-wielding husband.

An injured separatist that seems to have gone unnoticed by the ground team approaches the fray, hefting her shield up as she prepares her sword for a surprise blow against Liara. Jana gives Tali a quick look that tells her to stay where she is before charging, yelling to grab the turian's attention.

She doesn't know what she expected charging into a battle she's had no training for, so it isn't a surprise when the turian female swings her large wing around to throw Jana off balance in order to avoid being hit. Still, Jana steps out of the way of a follow-up swing of the turian's sword before grabbing the handle of her own with both hands and bringing the sword down with all her might. The separatist takes the blow with her wooden shield and the force of the impact rattles up Jana's arms, but she manages to keep a hold of the sword as she barely avoids a returning slash from the turian's sword.

Stumbling, Jana loses her footing and the instant thought of 'I fucked up - I'm going to die' ignites in her mind just as the separatist closes the few steps between them and raises her sword. Jana manages to keep her eyes open, not to show fear at her incoming death, and she knows her block will fail, but she lifts her sword to attempt to deflect the slash anyways, never one to admit defeat so easily.

Only death doesn't come. Instead, Jana hears the quick sound of something shooting past her and the turian woman jerks midstep, an arrow landing directly between her eyes. The separatist collapses in time with Jana's mouth falling open in shock and she just manages to spin around to see Garrus clinging with his feet and a wing onto a jut of rock from the cliffside and drawing another arrow from his quiver. He smiles down to her, the expression full of pride and something else - almost like a promise.

"Thanks," she says, adrenaline pumping through her blood but arms already feeling like she's taken a beating.

"Anytime." He grins before kicking off the rock and giving his wings a powerful flap to fling him up to the last remaining separatist trying to flee from the failed ambush.

The Praetorian Guard don't give chase, though, and instead flick their wings to get out of Garrus' way as he nocks a black arrow, drawing the string of his bow taut as he flicks his mandibles and lines up the fleeing turian in his sights. The arrow is faster than she can see it, only knowing it's been launched by the thrumming of the bowstring as it springs the deadly arrow forward. Unsatisfied with that shot being the killing blow, Garrus quickly pulls another arrow from his quiver, nocks it, and fires with a speed earned through what she's sure is years upon years of practice.

The separatist's body jerks twice at the two arrows hit their mark and he falls, wings collapsing as he lands with a loud clamor of armor and what Jana's sure are bones. He doesn't move, dead from either the fall or the well-placed arrows in both his lower back and neck. She isn't sure which would have been more merciful if she were honest with herself, suddenly very aware of the pain that comes from battle despite her lack of consideration when a fight was just exchanging shots from a gun or the occasional grenade or squadmate's biotics.

The clap of wings slapping against the air surrounds her as Garrus and his guards return to the ground, sheathing their now cobalt stained weapons.

"I think that's all of them," Garrus says with a firm nod and low growl. "Twelve less  _nothi_  attacking caravans and refugees."

Jon nods and sheathes his sword. "Let's get back to the Captain and let him know. I'm sure he'll be grateful knowing the roads are even a bit safer."


	10. Shield Bashing and Sword Swinging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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>  _Høyhet (or Hoyhet for ease)_  (human term) - Highness
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>  _Føniks (Foniks for ease)_  (human term) - phoenix
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>  _Skít_ a (or skita for ease) (human term) - Shit

Captain Cassius, of the Taetrian Guard, greets them as they ride back into Taetrus. He stands at the Trebian Gate where it seems that Jon's crew has arrived, outfitted with a large, three-horse wagon stacked with crates and barrels and enough horses for the crew that's come along and even a handful more to carry supplies not secured to the wagon. Jana can't imagine how much Jon paid for the entire pack of horses and equipment, but she's sure by the few exchanges of currency and reactions to prices that it must have been a hefty sum.

_Perhaps being a Templar and part of the King's Alliance helps? Like some sort of barter system where, instead of gold, you use reputation? It's something to talk about on our long ride._

True to his word, the Captain pays Jon for the twelve separatists they managed to kill in the Diluvian Valley. Watching the exchange, Jana finds that the gold coins she's seen Jon using are what Cassius called 'Royals,' their denomination that of one hundred gold each. As they agreed, Captain Cassius pays five Royals - sometimes supplementing coins of the same size, only silver, as what must be the equivalent of half a Royal - for each separatist, making the total come out to a staggering six thousand in Alysim's currency.

Despite protests, Jon insists on separating the reward with everyone involved, even Jana and Tali who weren't of much help during the actual fight. He takes a large portion for the Normandy's funds for supplies and upkeep but makes plans to divide the remaining three thousand among the nine of them. Garrus refuses his portion, joking about needing to be the one to provide gold for their cause as Atheling, but Mierin and Sidonis reluctantly accept their cut after a time, having to be convinced that they deserve it even if they saw it as their duty to fight alongside their Atheling to ultimately defend their people. Severus, however, denies any coin with a blatant upturn of his nose as if insulted by the very idea, no sense of 'duty to his people' in his vocal tones when he refuses.

Jana and Tali, however, don't get away with declining their portion and Jon all but grabs their hands to place their coin in their palms. With only Jameson, Liara, Jon, Jana, and Tali to split the remainder of the bounty Captain Cassius paid, each person gets a staggering six hundred gold - or equal denomination.

Once they set off on their journey towards Cipritine, Jana stays mostly quiet, pensive and content to listen to the others talk and share stories but happy that Tali seems to be comfortable when they include her in their conversations. It's one voice in particular, though, that Jana finds herself always latching onto, entranced by every word spoken.

It's Garrus' voice, deep but smoother than her husband's after his extensive injury to his throat that left his voice ever so slightly graveled. She remembers the way his voice almost seemed like a growl when he spoke, the roughness of it more prominent when he was upset, but this Garrus' voice rolls over her like a warm, smokey rumble. Without the wounds to restrict him as her husband had, this Garrus' vocals croon and sing in multitudes of tones and soothing words. Even the occasional growl he does make - usually aimed at his one stubborn and disrespectful guard - doesn't carry that grizzled hardness she once felt against her skin after she had calmed the self-destructive fire in her Garrus, even if only for a handful of moments.

Palaven, much like Garrus had said, truly is a beautiful place with its towering cliffs and rocky formations. It reminds her of The Grand Canyon and surrounding desert on Earth, seemingly inhospitable but actually teeming with life that's made itself a part of the very landscape. Animals seem to have shaped their lives around the tall heights and Taetrus is not alone in the way it's built into the tall, ramrod straight rise in the rocks and jagged stone painted in varying tones of scarlet and shades of bronze. There are some towns on the road from Taetrus built into the cliffs as if chiseled into the rock at heights clearly meant for turians and not the average passersby to just waltz into.

She could see how some people may think Palaven is a place meant only for turians and, if she's honest, it truly is in the way they've developed bodily and infrastructurally to suit the harsh landscape. While a disadvantage for other species, Jana realizes it can be a very beneficial way to protect the turian people and their settlements from attack if said attackers lack the wings turians have. It makes her wonder if the Reapers attacking Cipritine have somehow found a way to circumvent the dilemma.

_Reaperized turians are going to be one hell of a fight. I'm almost scared to see what they've become._

As it grows late, the bright sun setting on a very long day of travel, Jon calls the caravan to a stop when the land spreads out around the road and gives them the first somewhat level ground to make camp. It's still situated on a bit of a hill, but there is quite a good view of the road ahead as well as behind so that they can see if anyone's coming from a ways off, enough to give them time to prepare if it's danger. That and the lack of cliffs pressing tightly around on their sides protects them from any direct attack from the higher cliffs. She knows Jon's going to set out a guard so that, if anything suspicious shows itself in the night, the alarm will go off quickly and in time for everyone to prepare for an attack anyways, but it's much less claustrophobic and ominous than the valleys and crevices the path has been winding through.

Jana isn't sure if Jon told one of his crew to help her and Tali set up a tent or if the man that approaches decided to offer aid out of his own goodwill, but they gratefully take him up on the offer when he approaches. They help to set up the wood beams in a row of four that come to peaks where a straight bar creates the solid spine of the tent. A tarp is drawn over the squared tent, tied taut to keep out the elements should the weather change in the night with a small flap on either side for access that can be tied back and open, or pulled closed. The man rolled out a thick blanket too, promising that it'd help to keep some of the night's cold from seeping up out of the ground.

It's not huge, but enough for her and Tali to lay side by side on a padded bedroll each and keep their packs of belongings inside and out of the weather. She's satisfied with that and Tali seems less focused on where they'll be sleeping and more on how she can be of some use in setting up the rest of the camp.

Jana, however, needs to get into something much less constricting than her armor if she wants to offer to help anyone in setting up more tents or the other necessities of camp. She lets Tali lead the horse Jane was riding towards where the others are being tended to by Sybill and Bettrice, the women who resemble the two soldiers that once guarded her Normandy's security checkpoint and obviously hold authority over tending to everyone's mounts.

Well, the  _horses,_  anyway. Mierin takes over for Garrus and his other guards in unpacking their lacertas once she quickly gets out of her lighter armor and leaves on the black and cobalt robe beneath.

Laying the last of her armor down beside her bedroll, Jana stretches, hands on the back of her hips as she arches her back with a low groan. She hears a shuffling of footsteps approaching but doesn't immediately acknowledge them, figuring they're just another one of the crew preparing the camp or Tali returning to have her chance at relaxing after their long ride. It isn't until the person clears their throat to make her well aware that they mean to get her attention that she realizes they're here for her.

Jana grunts and holds her position a moment more to make sure her back is limber enough that sleeping on a hard ground won't worsen her stiffness from riding too much, knowing the last thing she needs is an aching back only this soon in their journey. Ashlin's horse is nice and her gait smooth, but life in Jana's universe just never lent itself to growing accustomed to the posture needed for riding horseback, armor or not.

"Hope you're not too sore from the ride," Jon says when she opens her eyes and straightens up. "I thought I might show you some things while they get dinner cooked."

Jana raises her brows at the shield in his hands, diamond-shaped with metal outlining its shape and crossing across the wooden front. It's clearly not his shield, but she's sure it's one he's had brought from the Normandy for what she figures as a backup in case his breaks. It definitely doesn't look as unique as his blazing sun one, but she figures looks come second to a good defense when it's a matter of survival in the middle of battle. It's how she's always seen her gear and weapons, though Jon and his men are admittedly much more diverse appearance-wise with their varying armor styles and weapon types than her own universe's standard armors and guns.

If she's right in her guess what his 'showing her some things' might mean by looking at the unknown shield in his hand, then she's all for some instruction on how to learn to block an attack instead of the unpracticed deflection she reacted with back in the Diluvian Valley.

"Are you going to teach me with that?" she asks, motioning the shield with a smile. "Because I'm game … but I don't know how much I can keep up with you. I have a feeling it's not going to be as easy as lifting a gun and holding it steady when I pull the trigger."

Jon hums, pursing his lips a bit. "I'm not sure I completely understand your comparison, but yeah, it'll be different. Tali said your guns are a lot like our crossbows, yeah? Well, this," he says, hefting the shield that's about three feet long, "is definitely not like a crossbow. From what I know of your realm, I don't really think there's anything you've recalled that sounds like a shield, so this training might be a bit different from how you were trained."

"I know the basics, but yeah, I could definitely use the help." She looks at herself, seeing her tighter underpants and tunic that's meant to go beneath her padded gambeson. "Should I change? Get back into my armor?"

Jon shakes his head and smiles, motioning his own loose, brown pants tied around his legs at his mid-calf and relaxed, cream shirt. He isn't even wearing any shoes, which makes Jana think that either he's used to heat against his feet or the sands of their camp has already cooled considerably in the sunset.

"Something comfortable will suit just fine," he says as he turns away, jerking his head towards a good-sized clearing where Jana can just barely see Tali fiddling with something - a crossbow, maybe - in her hands. "I'll be waiting over by my tent for you. I think we'll work on shield work before we start mixing it up with both shield and sword."

Jana chuckles slightly and smiles. "Are we doing shields and swords because it's an easier combo to learn … or because it's  _your_ favorite?"

Grinning, he makes a feigned sound of possibility as he shrugs his shoulders and Jana laughs.

"Alright, fair enough," she says and lightly waves him away. "I'll get into something a bit more comfortable and be with you in a bit."

Jana quickly changes into a pair of green, cropped pants, and a thin, loose-fitting shirt she was used to wearing on the Normandy to bite back the chilly sprays of salty air in the dark hours of the cold nights at sea. She leaves off her shoes not only because Jon had, but because by the time she's finished getting dressed, the ground has cooled considerably as the sky is thrown into fiery reds and oranges before darkening into a starry black.

The camp has already set out torches, lending light to the small paths between tents and creating a bright glow where they are joined by a large fire in a clearing at the center of the camp. Jon's large tent overlooks the clearing, its double flaps tied open to show not only a basic living quarter but what looks like a place to gather and look over plans or maps strewn across a makeshift table. It makes Jana think that he's turned his tent into a place to strategize as well as sleep and, from what she knows about him, she doesn't find it all that surprising he'd keep something as important to their cause close to his person.

Seeing Jameson helping Jon gather up a pair of plain-looking swords and the shield he had shown Jana along with his own, Jana smiles and waves a hand in greeting as she approaches. Jon grins as he sets the diamond shield down, its pointed bottom set in the ground.

"You ready to learn how to use a shield?" He asks before motioning away with his chin, leading Jana's attention to where Tali is set off to the side with a crossbow and straw and burlap target carefully situated away from any bystanders should a bolt fly astray. "I've started Tali on seeing if she can get the hang of the crossbow since she seemed to think it'd be closest to your old weapons and safe enough that she's not in the middle of battle."

"Good idea," Jana says, nodding as she smiles at her friend trying to line up the crossbow and just barely missing when she pulls down on the elongated trigger bar. "We'd like to avoid any tears to her suit if possible."

"Very well." Jon lifts the shield and pivots his body to stand beside her, giving her a look of the inside of it and the straps that she'll need to wield it, a thick pad between them as cushioning for her forearm to account for the force of impact. "Here's where you'll slip your arm in …. In these two straps. We'll buckle them tight enough for you to use easily. This," he says, motioning a metal latch on the top and bottom edge of the shield, "is where we'll place a strap so you can carry your shield on your back …. Once you're ready, of course."

Handing over the large shield, he points to the padding. "Your forearm goes against that …. I'll tighten your straps," he says as she holds the shield against the floor to keep it steady while he pulls the leather straps through the buckles and tightens them so that they are just snug. He tests the fit by slipping his fingers between her arm and the pad before giving a nod. "You will be able to pull the shield on and off easier with a fit like that. It's secure, but not constricting … right?"

Jana lifts her arm, releasing the shield with her other hand that had been keeping it still and straight. She moves her arm up and down a few times, testing the weight and fit of the shield before nodding at the lack of pull from too much slack or uncomfortable pressure from being too snug. "Yeah, it feels good …."

"We'll adjust if we have to once we get started." He looks at her a moment before grabbing the shield's edge and giving her arm a shake and she instinctively stiffens it, but he shakes his head. "Don't tense up. You don't want to lock your elbow or you'll break something. You'll need to get used to taking the brunt of a blow with this arm," he says, but smiles softly. "It'll hurt at first … a lot. Leave you sore enough that you'll think it'll fall off, but keeping your arm loose on impact helps."

"Got it," she says with a nod and flexes her hand and forearm muscles a bit to get into the mindset of being lax. "Give into the hits."

"But don't let it bash into your face or we'd have a lot bigger problems."

Jana chuckles nervously, imaging the damage. "Yeah …. Definitely don't want that."

_It'd probably kill me, to be honest._

He gives her a last look before nodding with a smile. Holding up a hand, he says, "Wait here while I get mine."

As he straps his shield into place on his left arm, she notices that they've earned themselves a small crowd of onlookers. Liara smiles when Jana's eyes meet hers, the asari in a loose, lilac robe she tugs tighter against the chill of the dusk. Tali seems to have set her crossbow training aside to watch, though her nod gives Jana the feeling of support more than an interest in gawking at her flailings. Jameson crosses his arms and leans a hip on a barrel in line with a small row beside Jon's tent and smiles at Jana, giving her a firm, confident nod.

Jana smiles lightly in thanks, but it fades slightly when she sees Garrus approaching, wearing a dark blue robe of his own secured around the waist with a loose, black sash. He flutters his mandibles at her as he moves to stand with Jameson on the sidelines.

"Come to watch,  _Hoyhet_?" Jameson asks Garrus with a grin, nudging the turian with a shoulder. "Want to see what happens when the real soldiers fight?"

Garrus huffs and raises a brow plate. "I  _do_ know how to wield a sword, you know. I was trained in close quarters combat, I just choose a bow. Nightingale has never let me down," he says with a low rumble before looking to Jana. "I could work with you once you're ready for a sword."

Jon chuckles as he approaches, shield in place and a plain sword not his usual one in hand. "That'd take you actually  _having_ a sword. Last I checked, we don't carry turian swords."

Garrus hums, mandibles flicking a few times as he rubs his neck. "Yeah …." he trails off, clamping his mandibles to his jaw. "Well … maybe later."

Jana smiles softly to herself as Jon comes to stand before her.

"Alright," he says, "ready to test your grip?"

Lifting her brows in surprise, she looks at him in confusion. "I don't -"

Before she can ask what exactly he plans to do to 'test her grip,' he bashes his shield into hers, knocking her back. She stumbles a few steps but luckily manages to keep herself from making a fool of herself by falling on her ass. Her arm immediately screams at the pain shooting up to radiate in her shoulder as she cringes.

"Shit …."

"Damn,  _Foniks_ ," Jameson says, standing straight up and distracting from Garrus' wide-eyed, mandible splayed look of shock. "Try giving a bit of a warning."

"No, no," Jana says, shaking her arm to loosen some of the pain. "I'm good." Taking a deep, steadying breath to calm the sharp stab at the movement, she nods to Jon. "Keep going."

Smiling warmly, Jon matches her nod and rolls his wrist holding the sword. "I'm going to use the sword this time. Try to watch and anticipate where I'm going to strike. Don't worry about having to attack back."

Jana clenches her jaw, parts her feet and bends her knees into a more stable stance. She plans to be more prepared for this attack, even if it might not be as hard as the shield bash. Seeing from his previous actions, Jon isn't going to feign the force of his blows for her sake and she respects that. Wants it, even.

Still, she knows he moves slow enough for her to at least have a chance at anticipating his movements, seeing his wind up a mile away to know what direction he's going to strike from. That isn't saying much, however, because she knows it's only her previous combat training that she can catch the tells and he hits hard, metal making a loud clang as his sword makes contact with the metal crossing the front of her shield.

Her arm screams in pain, but she knows not to hold the shield steady with both hands, knows that's not how combat with a shield works. Slowly, he pushes her across the small field the crowd has given them for their practice, guiding her around with each rattling blow to her raised shield, but she doesn't relent, doesn't call for a break. Whether that be because of stubbornness not to show weakness or sheer determination to learn while not neck-deep in Reapers, she doesn't know nor care to think about while fighting back Jon's onslaught.

Once it seems like she's just gotten the hang of blocking his blows and adjusting for the brunt of his attacks, Jon adjusts, beginning to mix up his tactics to better fit a real battle. This time, when he comes in for a slash, he truly proves he had been holding back when his sword strikes with the force he'd use against a real enemy. The move was still as plain as day, but Jana knows she'd never be able to take him at his best.

She knows that, he knows that, and, hell, everyone around damn well knows it, even if they aren't outwardly giving that thought away.

Coming at her before she can completely adjust, Jon sidesteps and slams his shield against her own. She just barely manages to catch it, but it's sloppy and she can feel the impact from her toes to her grinding teeth and she can't hold her ground, dropping to a knee. Even with her shield held up, she knows that, if she truly were his enemy, the fight would be over, she'd be dead.

One swift downswing with his sword and Jana would be no more.

She's fully ready for a round of applause from the crowd and smug look on his face, but they all surprise her once again as she audibly hears some gasps and sharp intakes of breath and sees Jon's eyes widen as he immediately drops his sword to the dirt.

" _Skita_ ," Jon says quickly as he kneels beside her, worry etched in his features. "I'm so sorry." He offers a hand to help her to her feet, thankfully not making her feel like a damsel that's just made an ass of herself. He grips her forearm firmly and pulls her up and all her self-ridicule running through her head loses some of its fire at the pride in his eyes.

She wants to feel like she's of some use here, not some bottom of the totem pole tagalong, and wants to train to use the weapons of this word. With the look in Jon's eyes and the approving gazes of the others, this defeat feels less like a failure to add to her list and a genuine learning experience. No one seems to fault her for falling and after losing so much lately in her life, the warmth is certainly an unexpected, but welcome surprise.

"I got to admit," Jon says as she brushes off her knees and he moves to pick up his sword again. "You're doing better than expected given the kind of weapons you came here with. If you want, we can switch to you attacking, test your sword skills."

Jana huffs and shakes her head, panting as the sweat as her brow cools in the chilly night air. "What 'sword skills?' I have no idea how to wield a sword …."

"You can use an omni-blade," Tali supplies, encouraging tone in her voice and a smile in her eyes when Jana glances over to her. "It must be at least somewhat the same."

"Don't know about that," Jana says, doubtful, but Jon merely shrugs.

"Who knows what  _that_ is, but I think you're well on your way to catching on with this. You're at a much higher level than a complete stranger to battle." He looks to the others and they share nods.

"I guess some combat training  _can_ translate." Taking a deep breath, Jana lifts her shield and nods. "Alright, if you think we should move to swords, I'm game."

"Might want to hold off on that," Jameson says with a grin, pointing towards the big fire where crew seem to be finishing up a meal. "It looks like dinner's ready and I don't want to miss out on anything."

Jon chuckles and nods, unofficially ending the session and watching the others gather themselves before turning to Jana with a smile. "You did good. I really mean that, not just saying that for the others. You seem like a natural for it."

Smiling, cheeks warming slightly at the compliment, Jana nods in gratitude. "Thank you for this. I know Tali agrees when I say that we want to be of some use to you. We're ready to do whatever it takes to learn."

Jon nods softly and softly bumps his shield to hers. "Come on, I'll show you where we'll be keeping your things in case you ever want to practice alone on the training dummy Tali's using."

"Speaking of, how's her training coming along?"

Jon hums and shifts his sword to his shielded hand, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I admit I'm not the best at ranged weapons, but she's hitting the target most of the time." He shrugs and smiles at her. "I think she has a better advantage in learning quickly than you …. No offense."

"None taken," Jana says with a light laugh. "Crossbows  _are_ a lot more like guns than a shield and sword."

"You can always change to something else. I just figured you'd benefit most learning the same weapons as me." He clears his throat, seemingly embarrassed. "Not like I mean I'm some expert, but I certainly don't have the same handle on huge weapons like Jameson's hammer or Ashlin's greatsword. We may be able to switch you up for a mace or hatchet if you'd like, but again, I won't be able to teach you everything about it."

Jana nods. "We'll stick to your trademarks for now. I want to learn from the best," she says, chuckling and raising her free hand when he opens his mouth to protest. "And, yeah, you are the best. You wouldn't be where you are if you weren't. You're pretty much everyone's hero, after all. No one can do this but you."

"I don't know about that …." Jon scratches his head with a modest shrug. "But I'll do my best."

Laying her hand on his shoulder. "That's the best we can all do. And I'm right here, for whatever that's worth. I plan to do my best to make sure here ends up better than my world."


	11. Late Night

After a few days on the roads, an ominous black begins to weave its way through the Palaven skies, spreading across its expanse like sickly veins that darken the deeper into the province they travel. The turians of their expedition gradually grow more and more uneasy with each passing day that brings them closer to Cipritine and though they hide the tension well, their postures speak a language anyone accustomed to turian body language can understand.

If any question still remains, one look at Severus in particular or snappy remark from him is enough to give any doubters a good enough idea of just how tightly strung their turian allies all are. Garrus does his best to hide it, trying to stay jovial and openly conversational around everyone else, but Jana can still tell he’s carrying the weight of worry and impatience on his shoulders.

_ And who can blame him? His home is being torn apart by Reapers while we’re stuck traveling at a walking pace.  _

She’s still trying to get accustomed to the fact that though they seem to be walking at a slow pace with their horses and lacertas, they are actually using one of the best means of transportation this world has to offer. Where she and Tali are so used to a skycar or shuttle to transport them across vast expanses of land and space, all Alysim has is its horses - or the like - ships, and peoples’ own two feet. Running their horses like in the vids back home is inefficient and cruel, only causing more problems for them and pain for their mounts, and slowing their overall progress as a result.

_ And traveling by ship will only take us right into the Reapers’ hands with how Cipritine and Menae are situated. By having control of both, they control the water between, keeping anyone from sneaking in by ship. I don’t have to see a map to believe everyone when they say it’s a bad idea. _

Still, Jana stays up some nights wishing she knew a way to help ease Garrus’ stresses over his home. Ultimately, she knows nothing but action will ease his fears of the state of his home and family, but she can’t help but recall the days with her own Garrus where it seemed talking over things eased their stress, even if she never truly got her husband to calm completely after Omega.

Her cowardness wins out, though, and she never leaves her tent at night. She lays in her bedroll and stares at the thick material of their tent, listening to the sounds of Tali sleeping, the slight rasp of her modulator buzzing with her breath. Her aching arms are her only companion the late nights, but she fears getting out of the tent to explore the camp for company, deciding it’s safer to avoid any possibility of running into Garrus should he be as restless as she is. 

Instead, she worries her ring with her fingers, trying and failing to wipe away the blemishes caused by it lying against her sweaty chest during the day and rubbing against her hands - that are never as clean as they used to be back in her reality - at night. She’s grown used to the fact, but it still hurts to know the bright shine of her ring is dulled by the slight grime on her fingers and, yet, she can’t keep herself from caressing it when she’s alone, anxiety of the growing unknown running through her mind in the late hours of the cold Palaven nights.

A slight sniffle to her side draws Jana’s attention to her tent companion and she turns to her head see Tali’s sleepy eyes peering at her in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?”

Tali hums and shrugs.” I should be asking  _ you  _ that,” she says before yawning softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Just … thinking.” Jana shrugs and looks up at the tent ceiling where the fabric comes to a sharp angle at the center beam. “Mind’s racing, but I’ll be fine. You should sleep. It’s probably just my achiness keeping me up.”

Tali scoffs and reaches over to take Jana’s hand still rubbing her ring unconsciously. “Tell me. Please?”

Sighing, Jana releases her ring and gives Tali’s hand a soft squeeze before she lays both of her own hands on her chest. “I guess I just feel the same stresses weighing on me that everyone else feels the closer we get to Cipritine. I  _ know  _ what our Palaven was like and, Tali, it wasn’t good.” She closes her eyes and adds, “And even if he isn’t mine, I get this tightness in my chest seeing Garrus worry over what we’ll find. I wish there was a way to help him prepare for what’s to come, but even I’m not sure what happened for me will happen here ….” She frowns, clenching her eyes tighter. “And I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“ _ Him _ .”

Tali takes a deep breath as she shifts in her bedroll. A moment later, Jana feels Tali closer, her hand covering one of Jana’s once again. “You shouldn’t keep hurting yourself over him being here. I see how you try to avoid him, even when it hurts you.” She links her fingers with Jana’s. “Even here, you two are drawn to each other.”

“That’s just because I’m fooling myself -”

“ _ No _ ,” Tali says sharply, smacking Jana’s hand lightly. “I’ve seen the few times you let yourself talk to him. You enjoy talking to him.” Tali pauses and Jana’s sure she’s watching her face for any reaction, humming when Jana bites her lip to keep it from quivering. “Don’t you think Garrus would want you to be happy? With everything we’re going through? He’d want you to find any kind of happiness to take away from the constant war around us, even for a little while.”

Jana wants to protest, to tell Tali she’s wrong, but they were both so close to her husband that she knows Tali’s right. Even in his worst moments of self-doubt and mental anguish, Garrus wanted what was best for her. He never wanted to be just another weight on her shoulders and it took her hounding and promising to never let it affect her like he feared before he even opened up  _ just a fraction  _ about Omega and his life while she was gone.

_ And even then, I know he kept his secrets. Kept things from me because he didn’t want to be a burden on me like everyone else while I was trying to be the strong, infallible leader. _

Jana takes a deep breath before opening her eyes and tilting her head to look at Tali by her side. “And what about you? Don’t act like I don’t see how you act around Jon.”

Tali’s eyes narrow and she huffs. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Please, Tali ….”

Sighing, Tali gives Jana’s hand a squeeze before moving to mirror her, looking up at the tent’s taut fabric. “I know he’s hiding something just like you …. I think he had a Tali and he lost her just like you did Garrus. That purple rope he has? It’s an old quarian thing in our universe, a union tie.” She lays her hands on her chest, silence falling over them for a moment. “I don’t want to cause him pain, but I don’t push him away when he talks to me …. I like him, Jana.”

Jana smiles to herself, happy that Tali seems to be finding some kind of happiness and comfort to latch onto in this world that may very well turn quite deadly to her once their purification supplies run out. This world also seems to be all levo, despite turians in their old reality being dextro because Garrus and his guard didn’t even bat an eye when they were offered food from the Normandy’s stashes.

_ Could it be only a matter of time before we really need to start worrying about Tali? Could I lose her?  _

_ I  _ **_can’t_ ** _ lose her …. Not now, after so much …. _

“Jana?”

She takes a moment to push away her worries before she glances to her friend and smiles, though she isn’t sure Tali can see her expression in the dark. “I can tell,” she jokes before chuckling. “I think he likes you too, but it’s good you aren’t pushing. He and I may be a lot closer than just our names.” She shifts just enough to bump Tali with her shoulder. “And he  _ is  _ a pretty good guy. I’m sure I’d have a lot more to say if you were attracted to some ass.”

Tali snorts before yawning again and Jana shifts up to an elbow to look down at the dark form of her friend, only able to tell where Tali is by her glowing eyes behind her mask.

“You should get back to sleep. It’d be pretty embarrassing if you fell asleep on the ride and fell off the horse or something.” She smirks and taps Tali’s voice modulator with her finger. “And you snore …. Wouldn’t want Jon knowing.”

Tali scoffs and swats at Jana. “I don’t  _ snore _ , you  _ bosh’tet _ ,” she snaps, her voice raised as much as she thinks possible without waking people in the neighboring tents. “My modulator doesn’t count as snoring.”

Chuckling, Jana shrugs. “Sure it doesn’t.” She shifts to pull aside her bedroll’s cover.

“Where are you going?” Tali shifts up on an elbow to watch Jana crawl out of the tent.

“I can’t sleep …. And I don’t want to stare at the ceiling anymore.” Jana pats her pants down and looks around the softly lit camp, thankful for the few torches placed about because she doesn’t have one of her own or a lantern to use. “I’ll let you sleep, see if I can find myself something to do until I get tired.”

Tali huffs and slowly lays down after a moment that proves Jana won’t change her mind. “Don’t stay up too late. Wouldn’t want  _ you  _ falling off a horse.”

Jana chuckles and nods, knowing Tali isn’t looking her way to see it but feeling the need to do it anyway. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon enough.”

Walking the camp, she finds two members of the crew making lazy laps around the perimeter of the map, a horn to alert everyone on a strap looped around their necks. They give her a greeting nod as they pass, but she doesn’t join them in their patrol, heading for the center of the encampment to see if the central fire is still burning or has chilled to embers.

She finds two more crew sitting at the fire pit, a much smaller fire blazing to keep them warm. She doesn’t know their names and doesn’t stay to chat because she finds Jon’s tent open, one flap still pulled back to let light spill out onto the ground. Jana approaches slowly, ears perked for any conversation coming from the tent, not wanting to intrude if Jon is currently discussing strategic matters inside.

When she hears no voices coming from the tent, Jana peeks past the drawn back tent flap and sees Jon leaning over a map, face drawn tight in concentration. He glances up just as she turns to leave him be and calls out.

“Jana,” he says, standing up with a deep sigh. “You’re up late.”

“Can’t really sleep.” She shrugs and rubs her arm. “I guess I’m still not completely used to everything ….”

Jon nods and comes to her, laying a hand on her arm as he motions to walk with him. “I just talked to Garrus and his Praetorians. We’re very close to Cipritine and it’s obvious that the Reapers have a strong presence there.” He looks up and Jana follows his eyes, seeing a faint red glow following the same pattern as the ominous black veins that branch out across the sky when the sun is up. “The Corruption is already this far …. That’s not good ….”

“Is  _ that _ the Corruption?” Jana asks, jerking her head towards the sky when he looks to her before letting her gaze move back to the unnatural way scarlet weaves among the stars, glowing like the glimpses of magma through cracks in black rock.

Jon nods. “It’s a part of it …. It’s like they poison everything they come into contact with, even the air. But it does things to people too … changes them.”

Jana bites her lip and nods. “We called it ‘Indoctrination.’ It didn’t make the skies dark or anything, but they caused enough destruction to black out the sky with ashes and debris from whatever was in their path.”

“And now you can see why Garrus is so stressed about his people. His family is in Cipritine and he only has three Praetorians and us to charge into Cipritine with.” Jon rubs a hand over his shortly buzzed hair. “And Severus is giving him a hard time about going in with so many people, says he should approach more cautiously, stealthily. I can see what he’s getting at, but part of me wants to make sure Garrus doesn’t go alone.”

“What’s with that guy, anyways? Severus?” she asks, looking around the camp to make sure no one is nearby to overhear. “He’s a disrespective asshole to Garrus. If Garrus is royalty, why does he let his guard get away with that kind of crap?”

Jon hums before saying, “Severus is third in line of succession behind Garrus and his twin sister, Solana. He’s a Vakarian too, Garrus’ cousin.” He shrugs and looks up at the sky. “I don’t know why Garrus lets him do some of the things he does, but I’m sure it’s a turian thing we’re not really privy to.”

Jana doesn’t like the answer, but drops it, knowing Jon wouldn’t be keeping something from her without at least saying so. If he doesn’t have the answers, then she figures she’ll just have to be left to wonder. She just doesn’t like it, hates that Garrus can be at such a high position of power and still lets his own blood nag at him when he should be trying to stay calm about the state of Palaven. No one knows what Cipritine is like and they won’t until they arrive at the capital city, but having Garrus going in already as stressed as he seems - and only getting worse with his cousin’s unhelpful pressuring - is only going to put them at the risk of making mistakes.

_ Jon will make sure Garrus has his head on right. I’m sure of it …. I wish  _ **_I_ ** _ could do something to help, but how could I? I can’t even talk to Garrus for more than a few seconds before backing out like a coward. _

Wanting to shake her thoughts from her mind, Jana looks around and motions back the way they came to Jon’s tent. “Is there anything you could show me that’ll help my training? I know it’s too loud to work with our shields, but could there be anything else we could do? I don’t know, to pass the time and maybe tire ourselves out?”

Jon’s brows raise in surprise but he smiles and nods. “Yeah, we can practice. Shield training is definitely too loud, but we can always start working on your swordsmanship with the dummy. Hitting straw isn’t going to cause much noise and it’ll be a good enough start.”

She smiles and nods. “Great,” she says, following after him. “Thanks for this. I don’t know if I’ve said it already, but these past few days have really helped me feel less like I’m just sitting around and eating your food. I feel like I just may be able to help  _ one  _ day.”

Chuckling, he nods and pats her back, leaving his hand on her at the last touch to guide her into his tent. “Don’t mention it. Anything to help … and anything to help you be of help to  _ us _ ,” he adds with a soft, yet warm laugh. “I admit I’m looking forward to the extra sword and crossbow. But  _ only  _ when you’re both ready, not before.”

“Trust me, I don’t intend to run into battle unprepared again. I learned my lesson ….”

_ Embarrassingly …. _

He huffs a soft chuckle of amusement as he fetches a sword from the wooden stand where his normal, golden sword is propped up, the orb within its handle dim and no longer glowing as it does on the battlefield. The sword he offers her is very plain in comparison and doesn’t look all that sharp, but she realizes that it’s a good decision not to give her a sharpened blade for her first chance at practice. Even if she’ll be wailing on a dummy, she doesn’t want to run the risk of hurting herself or somehow hurting someone else.

“So we’ll start with stance,” Jon says, taking his sword and leading her out into the warm light of the small fire and towards the dummy they’ve set up for Tali off to the side, away from anyone who would be hurt by a stray bolt while she’s still getting used to the weapon. “It’s similar to how you’ve been standing with the shield, only now you’ll lead with the sword.”

He lowers, bending his knees slightly and stepping slightly forward with his right leg. Jana follows his instruction, falling into a familiar enough stance that she’s adapted to with the shield, only now she no longer has a huge barrier between her and her imaginary opponent. It leaves her with a small feeling of being exposed, but Jon’s approving nod and smile help to alleviate some of her worries that, if she were actually fighting an opponent, she’d be leaving herself open to attack without any chance of being in the right position to protect herself.

“Hold your weapon like this, so that the weight is like an extension of your arm. Use your shoulder and upper arm, like this,” he says as he makes a soft swing in the air with his sword and Jana does the same, but obviously wrong as he shakes his head. “Relax your hand. Don’t grip it so hard …. Yeah, that’s right.”

Jana nods and swings the sword in the air in front of her, trying it from different directions and angles of her wrist. Jon chuckles and nods, getting back into stance in front of her, but far enough that they can move their swords between them without colliding. 

“There are eight ways to attack a target, but the best way to choose is to be able to read your opponent.” He swings his sword at an upward diagonal, stepping back to let Jana mimic him. “Your target points are the head, the neck, shoulders, their gut, and their legs. Think about the places where armor will be thinnest. Only thrust forward when you have a perfect chance because otherwise, it leaves you open.”

She mimics his thrust of the sword, imagining an opponent taking the attack in the gut where their armor would need to be either absent or weaker to allow for better maneuverability. 

“Okay,” she says, stepping back into her starting position. “How about guarding?”

“Same basic idea. Read your opponent to see what direction he’s coming from.” He lifts his sword and brings it down, twisting at the last minute to strike his ‘opponent’ in the side. Jana, wanting to practice the concept, lifts her sword and blocks her right side where his sword would land if he were actually targeting her, but he shakes his head. “Don’t angle your sword down and put your hand where your fingers can be cut. Hold it higher, bringing your hand closer to your chest …. Yes, like that.”

He switches feet and takes a side step, feigning a slash from the left before swinging his sword around and moving to attack her leg on his right. She imitates a block, the angle awkward, but he nods to tell her she did it right and she makes sure to remember to fight the urge to correct the downward angle even if it’s slightly uncomfortable. Once she returns to the ready position, he strikes towards her head and she lifts her sword to ‘block,’ imagining the loud clash of swords if they were truly in battle.

“Very good,” he says, stepping back into a relaxed position. “Now, a thrust is different. When they come in for a thrust, you have to swipe it aside. You can’t block it, but you can divert it.” He shows her by mimicking a thrust and she waves her sword in a half-circle, imagining swiping it aside as she side steps. “Yes! Very good. Footwork is key too. Keep the fight moving just like with the shield. Try to catch them off guard. Then, when you block one of their attacks …” he says, motioning her to ‘strike’ and blocking before stepping aside and ‘swinging’ his sword back down on her while she’s open, “you quickly take advantage and counterattack.”

Jana huffs as they try it again, this time her counterattacking. He still manages to ‘block’ her, but he nods in approval before stepping up into the ready position again. She follows him, holding her sword and testing the feel of it in her hand to make sure she’s keeping with the correct hold and control as he instructed.

“Now, imagine you have a shield on the other arm,” he says, raising his empty hand, forearm up as if an imaginary shield were strapped to it. “You can now block with your shield, but you also have to make sure you move fast enough when you attack that you can get around your shield and still catch them off guard.”

She nods and holds up her free arm, closing her eyes a moment to visualize the shield. “That shield is pretty big, though …. It’s almost as tall as I am, Jon.”

He hums and she opens her eyes to see him standing straight, rubbing his chin with his free hand. “You’re right …. Good in practice, but it could slow you down in battle.” He thinks a moment before smiling. “I know what we’ll do. I used to fight with someone who used a much smaller shield. You’ll have to be more aware of blocking because it won’t give you enough cover alone and you’ll move a lot more around your opponent to keep on top of the fight, but I think it’ll suit you better.”

“Yeah?” She smiles and lowers her sword, standing up straighter. “You think we can find one when we get back to the Citadel?”

“I’m sure of it.” He nods. “For now, we’ll practice with what we have, but I’ll be sure to get you a buckler at the Citadel along with a better sword. This one is nice and all, but I’d like you to have one to call your own.” Shrugging, he smiles. “It just feels better when you go into battle with  _ your  _ weapons and armor. And we have one of those things for you.”

“And Jameson did a pretty damn good job on it, too. Takes some getting used to, but I trust it if he does.” She looks over the blade of her sword. “But yeah … I think I’d like that.”

He huffs and she looks up to see him grin and puff his chest a bit. “You’ll even get to be a part of picking it out too,” he says. “Most blacksmiths have weapons like that on hand that have different kinds of looks and feels, they just need to sharpen them up. We’ll find you a good place …. My Templar title is bound to get us access to some good shops. And if you don’t like your armor, you don’t have to be afraid to say so. We can get you a new set then too.”

“No, I’m good there. I actually like it.” She shrugs and sets the tip of her sword in the ground. “Maybe once I get used to fighting, I’ll move to something more solid like my old armor, but for now, I think what I have suits me just fine.”

“It’s mighty fine armor, don’t get me wrong …. I was just surprised because of, like you said, how your old armor was.” He pats her shoulder as he passes her, heading towards his tent. “Jameson did good. Gear like yours right now is perfect for your worries.”

“Oh wait,” Jana calls, turning to him to catch him before he made it too far back to his tent. “What about Tali? I know she has her suit, but do you think we could get something light like mine to put on top of hers? Not getting a tear is very serious, Jon. I can’t stress that enough and without her omni-tool working to give her shields, weapons here can easily get past the material of her suit.”

Jon frowns, stopping in his tracks. “Of course. We should have gotten her something sooner …. Had I known -”

She holds up a hand to stop him from beating himself up over it. “It’s not your fault or anything. Honestly, neither of us thought about it …. I guess we were so sure that she could get our tech working.”

“And she hasn’t yet?”

Jana shakes her head and he nods solemnly. 

“I’ll look into getting something for her,” he says finally. “Quarian gear isn’t easy to come by, but like I said, being a Templar can get you things otherwise not available. I’ll see what I can do.” He raises a hand and turns back to his tent. “Sleep well, Jana. Keep the sword … and try not to stay up too late. We plan to leave as soon as day breaks.”

Jana nods at his back before lifting the sword and taking a long look at it. Taking a deep breath, she turns towards the dummy and walks over to it, raising the sword into position and adjusting her posture as Jon had shown her.


	12. Cipritine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _Flocci non_ _faccio_  (t.) - Roughly 'I don't give a damn'
> 
>  _Ne contemptum_ (t.) - Literally 'Don't disrespect'
> 
>  _Irrumator_ (t.) - Bastard; Used for non-turians

With the sky as black as pitch, they are led by the light of torches held in hand and the glow on the horizon. A sinking feeling tells Jana the glow they're approaching isn't made by turian hands, but she doesn't voice her fears, knowing the others feel it too.

The turians in their group spread and flick their wings like agitated beasts, terse and growling and snarling untranslated words at each other at any apparent slight. Their  _lacertas_  seem on edge too as they swing their heads from side to side, tongues lashing at the air as a low rumble emanates from their bodies. The others feel it too, edgy and fidgeting in their saddles as their horses' occasionally let out an angry snort and pin their ears back, giving their rider a moment of difficulty as they seem to fight the command to keep going.

When their beacon of light grows as they draw nearer, they see flames on the horizon, a grand city engulfed by a raging inferno. Garrus makes a very turian sound of distress as he snarls and stands up in his saddle.

"Cipritine!" He shouts, pulling back his  _lacerta's_  reins to keep it from thrashing beneath him, his wings opening to their full impressive size as he flares his mandibles to flash his sharp teeth. "We have to be there before they can destroy my home!"

"And run your  _lacerta_ to death?" Severus pulls his own mount back and narrows his eyes at his royal cousin, mandibles flicking viciously. "We'll never make it before they drop."

" _Flocci non faccio_ , Severus! They are animals! Those are our people!" He jabs a finger towards Palaven but doesn't wait for a response, turning those fiery blue eyes on Jon. "Do what you must, but I won't wait while Cipritine burns."

Jon steels himself before looking over those of them in armor with weapons at hand before giving a firm nod. "You're right. There's no time to wait." Jerking his reins back, he spins his horse and trots it to those of their caravan met to tend to camp and the supplies. "Keep your distance. Don't push the horses. It isn't safe like this anyway …. Stay away from the fires!" he calls as he kicks his horse, turning it back towards Cipritine as he raises a hand to the others and yells, "We ride!"

"To Cipritine!" Garrus calls out, raising a fist and flapping his wings before he kicks his lacerta, giving it an untranslated command that urges it into a run.

More comfortable with riding, Jana kicks  _Alfi's_  sides and jerks the reins, making a sharp shout to force the horse to follow the pack. The mare puffs out a heavy breath and pulls her ears back before breaking into a gallop alongside the others, hooves pounding the firm rock of the rising incline and trampling any vegetation underfoot. Jana leans forward and stands in the stirrups to keep from being bucked with each jostle of the horse's back, one hand on her saddle's pommel and the other gripping the reins.

The  _lacertas_ , despite their less than agile looks, keep up with the horses. Garrus' even surpasses Jon's horse as it seems to slither along the ground. Its legs swing out with its body instead of propelling it from beneath like a horse, and its claws grip the rocks easier than the flat hooves of their horses, giving them the ability to climb outside of the noticeably trampled down path up the mountain.

Small hamlets, farms, and clusters of homes have been set to the flame, some still burning as the group gallops past. The acrid scent of smoke fills the air, sometimes clouding their vision as they dive through it as it billows from the still blazing rubble of Cipritine's neighboring settlements situated near the road.

This close, Jana can start to see the individual, towering structures of the capital city. The silhouettes of turians flying in the skies are barely visible amongst the smoke and flurry of ash as it swells up into a torrent, spreading like a heavy wave of destruction over the city. Other figures like distorted turians can be seen battling the Hierarchy soldiers, but Jana can't place them, a pit in her stomach at the realization that they may very well be the forms of turians corrupted by the Reapers' evil.

High above the city and barely visible through the smoke is a bright flame that's engulfed a massive castle, its towers jutting tall into the now deadly sky. It sits upon a rise in the ground like a smaller mountain peak, a path winding its way up along the spire of rock to its massive main gates.

Jana knows, without a doubt, that it's Garrus' home. How very apt for a winged species to put its ruler at the highest peak of its capital, but that very concept seems to have condemned the Vakarians to the brunt of the Reapers' attack.

Horses exhausted and struggling against their reins, they make it into the city before they start to slow, their hooves stomping the rich red stones now making up an official road into the capital. Jon and Garrus pull up their mounts at what looks like a small center square just within the gates, eyes gazing upon the destruction above.

"We have to get to the keep," Garrus says, voice weak with fear, but vocals wild with rage and impatience. "My family may be holding there."

"Could they have escaped to somewhere safer?" Jon asks, turning his horse in a circle to keep it calmer than the others who are hopping on their feet, throwing their heads and snorting at the thick smoke.

" **Alok, Kulaan** ," a booming voice says, the sound of the seemingly a command vibrating the very ground and sending a chill through Jana's veins, startling their horses and mounts into neighing loudly, bucking in distress. " **Motaad voth maar fah faal brii do yol!** "

All look to the castle, following the dominating voice to its source as it now becomes visible through the smoke, and Jana's mouth falls open, eyes wide in shock - and truthfully, without a doubt,  _fear_. She feels her hands tremble at the sight of a massive, black dragon perched upon the tallest tower of the keep, a red glow emanating between the plates along its serpentine neck and massive chest, shining deep in its throat as it opens its mouth to speak once more.

" **Dir zohungaar fah hin jul zeim zofaas** ," it says again, rattling its tongue at the last syllable and it spreads its massive wings, blackening the sky as it stands back on its two feet gripping into the stone of the castle tower. It raises its head, horns - that look so much like the silhouette of her Reaper's own legs, its slender head similar to their bodies - crowning its head glistening from the dancing reflections of the flames surrounding it, and roars.

Jana fights not to cover her ears at the booming sound, memories of Sovereign and her realty's Reapers' unnatural roar flashing through her mind as she cringes. Her very bones feel the bass of the sound and her vision blurs, body reacting unconsciously to the sheer power in the sound.

"It's taunting me!" Garrus snarls, spreading his wings as if in responding threat to the massive dragon. "We have to get up there! Jon," he says, turning to his friend and flicking his mandibles pleadingly. "Please. My family could be up there."

Jon looks at Garrus for a long moment before lifting his eyes back to the dragon who seems to have turned its attention to a group of turians flying around it, snapping its massive jaws at them and catching at least three in its deadly maw. It's easily the size of a scouting ship from Jana's universe and those typically tended to be over three hundred feet long. She has no idea how they'll even stand a chance against it.

"We can't," Jon finally says, face stern in determination as he finally looks to Garrus, being drawn to the turian by Garrus' broken trill. "It's not safe to run right into its claws. It's clearly expecting you to. It  _wants_  to kill you, Garrus."

"But it could be up there killing my family!" Garrus swallows and glances back up to the Reaper, realization clear in his eyes that his family has no chance if they really are still up there.

Sidonis pulls his  _lacerta_ up to them. "The keep has tunnels out of it. Where do they come out?"

Garrus' mandibles flare at the implication before he quickly nods. "Yes! They would've taken the tunnels." Humming, his gaze moves around the area around them before he jerks his chin down a road. "This way!"

As they push their mounts as fast as they can go towards the street, the Reaper growls and calls out to them. " **Nivahriin**  …" it says, almost disappointed. " **Ruz dir vodahmin.** "

Suddenly, the air stills around them and Jon shouts to them to hurry just before Jana hears it,  _feels_  it.

With a sudden, loud whoosh, the Reaper ignites the square they had just been in, flames shooting from its mouth as it follows them down the street. She can feel the heat from its breath against her back and clenches her jaw as slaps her reins once more and kicks with all her might, pleading the horse to move faster.

_I know you're tired, but **please**  …._

Fear seems to help push the horse forward as it merely throws its head and seems to regain enough strength to gallop faster. Jana knows the only reason they are barely outrunning the fire is all because of the Reaper's control, has no doubt that it's merely playing with them as it glides effortlessly over the city, engulfing it with its shadow. Before long, it decides to swing around and bring fire down on another section of the city, apparently deciding to leave them to their attempts to get to where the underground tunnels open up.

She only hopes that everyone's right, that Garrus' family could have made it out through the tunnels.

The deeper into the city they run, the more it seems to tilt. Though it seems smaller than should be expected of a capital city from the direction they had come from, she finds that much of the city is actually built into the side of a cliff they've been at the top of this entire time. Streets wind around buildings seeming to defy gravity as if planted firmly into the side of the jagged rock, each steep road taking them deeper, and lower into Cipritine towards where it drops into the ocean with very little warning.

No Reaper forces seem to be attracted to them just yet, but Jana can hear the screeches and sounds of wounded soldiers as they fight in the skies above. The closer they get to the water, the more they have to slow their mounts to navigate through the growing throng of people trying to escape the city. She figures they must be headed for the water, for docks that have to logically be there, but knows that, for many, this is just as much a death sentence as flying in the skies above the city.

When they do come within sight of the docks that are, in fact there though swarming with people trying desperately to get boarded on the ships, Garrus brings them to a rough halt and looks up towards a squared tower overlooking the area.

"That's where they'll be if … if they made it out -"

"They did," Jon interrupts, trying to - along with everyone else - keep his horse from getting too worked up by the crowds pressing along on all sides and jostling them. "Get up there and get them. We don't have much time. Everyone else, make a circle and give him some room."

The group press their mounts around Garrus'  _lacerta_ , creating a small perimeter to keep the panicked crowds from stirring it up any more once its rider leaves to quickly gather his family. Garrus nods to Jon, rumbling gratefully as he hands his reins over to Mierin.

Stepping out of the stirrups and up onto the saddle's seat, Garrus spreads his large wings, bends his knees slightly, and kicks off the  _lacerta's_  back. The animal doesn't seem to notice, perhaps used to the action from its rider and Jana looks up as Garrus flaps his large wings to get to a balcony overlooking the street a good thirty feet above. The crowd doesn't even seem to notice as he lands on the stone railing of it, hops down, and shoves the door open with his shoulder.

"Is this the only guard tower overlooking the Apien?" Jon asks Sidonis, but it's Severus who answers, scoffing with his vocals.

"You think we'd only have  _one_  source of defense against the shore? This isn't even the main tower, but a diversion should any of our enemies find out that one of the tunnels' outlets is a guard tower at the Apien." He looks at passing citizens with an almost kind of disdain, using his wings to outstretch and force a bit of space between him and them as they rush past. "He better hurry before we're overrun."

Jana hasn't lowered her eyes from the balcony but has to admit she agrees with Severus this one time as she bites her lip and silently bids Garrus to hurry, but also be successful in finding his family. Relief washes over her when she sees the heavy wooden door swing inward with a jerk and Garrus reappear with someone in tow.

A shameful thickness settles in her throat when she sees that it's a female turian, dressed in an elegant red dress covered by a hooded cloak. She knows it's not his sister with the way he wraps his arm around her carapace and curls his wing around her as if to shield her from attention. Jana knows she shouldn't feel anything for the fact that he's been worried of a woman apparently very close and important to him, but she can't deny the flutter of something like jealousy take root in her chest.

_This is **not**  the time, Jana. Keep your head straight!_

She shakes the thoughts, the shameful feeling of disappointment, from her head as Garrus steps up onto the railing and drops off, female held in his arm as he uses his wings to slow their descent. He settles her on the flatter back end of his saddle before reclaiming his place in the stirrups. The woman, face still shadowed by her hood, grips onto him as he motions towards the coast with his chin.

"My father's on Menae …. Solana isn't here. She'd been sent to Invictus before the Reaper attacked to gather forces …." He pushes his  _lacerta_ through the circle of the group, forcing his way through the crowd. "There's troubling word coming from the island," he says cryptically, humming in agitation.

Though they can't run their horses for fear of trampling innocent turians, they can hurry along the crowds with the sheer size of their mounts and with the turians of the group paving the way with their wings spread slightly to allow the horses to trot behind them with two side by side.

"How will we get across the Apien Sea?" Jameson says, grunting when his horse jerks its head at a frightened citizen flaring her wings too close.

"There's bound to be military ships taking soldiers back and forth across the sea. We might have to fight to get to them, but they won't deny an order from the Atheling to embark immediately even if they aren't fully boarded," Sidonis says, rumbling in thought. "Though we could go ahead and pave the way if you give the word, Garrus."

"No," he says, shaking his head as he kicks his  _lacerta_ to move faster. "We stay together. If it means we have to be more forceful with the crowd, then we do what we have to."

"I won't just hurt innocent, scared people, Garrus." Jon pulls his horse as close to Garrus as he can. "These people just want to survive."

"Jon," Garrus pulls in a wing so he can turn in his saddle to look to Jon. "The Normandy is at Menae …. That's why my father's there." He nods at Jon's surprised look, not glancing at the others in the group to see their shared shock. "He expects we're aboard, ready to take him to safety for his war summit."

Jon's features turn stoney as his jaw twitches from clenched teeth. "Then we try to get there in time to ensure he isn't holding off at the Normandy without aid."

"And we find out why it's even here in the first place," Liara adds, uncertainty written all over her face.

Nodding, Jon doesn't speak as he jerks his head for Garrus to keep going and, though Jana knows it has to be impossible, they seem to be able to be making their way through the dense populace a bit faster, their urgency pushing them forward to the docks.

They find that the docks are mostly dominated by soldiers lining up to get onto the ships to join the others already out at sea and in the sky protecting ships crossing the water to the towering cliffs of the island of Menae. Very few are allowing citizens on, leaving the task mostly to the privately-owned ships, merchant vessels, and opulent boats of higher tiered turians. For the most part, order seems to have been brought to the docks themselves, but there's still a blanket of fear and anxiety over them. It's all very suiting for the turians Jana knows, even if she's disappointed to see that there's still no way to both save noncombatants and get soldiers to the battlefield.

Garrus and his Praetorians push their way through the throng of people towards a ship that seems most ready to set off for Menae. It's a smaller ship, but if Jana's learned from the Normandy, small may sometimes mean fast in terms of military vessels, this emblazoned with the bold word 'Resolute' along the side of its hull. Fast is definitely what they need and, with hope, the smaller size will go mostly unnoticed by the Reaper forces.

"Captain," Garrus calls as he approaches a turian, pulling up his  _lacerta_ as he flares his mandibles in surprise. "General Corinthus?"

The dark bronze-colored man in heavy silver armor the likes of which all the soldiers seem to be wearing some kind of version of turns away from a gathering of soldiers overlooking a map spread out across a crate beside the Resolute's gangplank and dips his head, bringing his curled hand to his chest in salute. "Atheling Garrus. I didn't expect you here. The Normandy -"

"The Normandy wasn't sent by Templar Shepard," Garrus says, motioning Jon. "We came from Taetrus. We don't even know if the Normandy actually is at port."

"Well, word is it's docked on the northern shore of the island, just outside of the reach of the war … for the moment." He waves a soldier towards another ship, getting a firm nod of affirmation before the young turian runs off. "I've taken to the docks to try and organize any efforts to get men to the island and citizens out of Cipritine. Those are  _my_  men up there in the skies," he says with a slight growl, pointing up towards the darkened skies above the crashing Apien Sea where they can see the silhouettes and forms of turians fighting valiantly against something too distorted in shape to be another turian. "Demons are carrying in other Corrupted and dropping them onto the ships from Menae. It seems what's here in Cipritine is merely meant as a distraction, as a way to clear the streets while the real forces have focused in on Menae."

"Is there a chance they know your father's there?" Jon asks, concern in his eyes though he looks just as assured of their plan as Garrus.

"They definitely know something," Garrus agrees with a nod before turning to the General. "We need to get to Menae. I don't care if the ships aren't ready. If they're after my father, then we  _need_  to be on the island."

Corinthus hums in his throat, but nods at that. "The Resolute can embark across the Sea as soon as you're ready. But the trip won't be smooth. You might have a battle of your own getting there."

"We can handle it," Garrus says with a growl, motioning with his hand for his Praetorians to board, but holds a hand up to stop Severus. "I need you to go back to Jon's caravan -" He jerks his hand flat to cut off any protest, glaring at the other turian. "Get them to circle around Cipritine and head north along the coast. We'll have to find another place to meet back with them. Cipritine isn't safe."

"I'm not a messenger,  _Atheling_  -"

" _Ne contemptum_!" Garrus jabs a finger towards his cousin. "Don't question my orders,  _Praetorian_ ," he sneers, giving Severus the same dismissive growl at his title. "Relay my message to Jon's men and, if you're so willing to get into the fight, find whatever's left of your Vigiles and  _fight_. Their lives will be on your hands - you want to command so damned much."

"Garrus," his female companion says softly, laying a light golden hand on his arm. "We must go."

Jon wordlessly motions for Liara, Jameson, and Jana to get their horses onto the ship as he follows behind them. Jana still catches a snarled, perceived threat towards Severus before Garrus leads his  _lacerta_ up the gangplank and onto the Resolute.

"General," Garrus says as he spins his  _lacerta_ once in the ship's hold. "Send a raven if you can -"

Garrus' voice stills when a massive shadow blankets the docks, throwing the crowds into a flurry of panic as the Reaper flies overhead, wings slicing through the smoke. " **Ru Kulaan. Zu fen du fod mu grind til sinon** ," its roars as it swoops down over the docks, setting a large civilian boot aflame as it passes, large wings giving a mighty swing as it rises back into the sky.

" _Irrumator_ ," Garrus hisses as the deckhands quickly work to draw up the gangplanks, the Resolute already pushing off the docks before its hull is even completely sealed.

Jumping from his exhausted, sweaty horse, Jon hands the reins to a crew member of the ship to pull the animal aside and out of the way of the many soldiers and deckhands rushing about the ship. "We should make our way to the top deck," he says as he comes and offers a hand to Garrus' female companion, giving a soft, polite bow of his head.

"Thank you, Templar," she purrs in a soothing, yet soft voice, taking his hand in hers and swinging her leg over the  _lactera's_  back to step off. She shakes her wings off a moment before nodding and turning to Garrus. "I can find the Captain, help him devise the best way to approach the island."

Garrus dips his head, thrumming as he closes his eyes. "Yes, mother. It's best you help, perhaps see if they have ravens to send out to Menae … possibly the mainland and on its way to Invictus to warn Solana."

_Mother …. She's his mother. I never met his mother, never got to know her because of her illness …. And my stupid self is worried that he has a mate._

Jana catches herself staring at Garrus' mother for a moment before shaking her head and finally climbing off of  _Alfi_. She rubs the horse's neck in silent thanks for the steadiness in the face of the terrors in Cipritine as well as in apology for having to push her so hard. She knows they'll only have to push their mounts hard once more once they get to Menae if they're to make it to Garrus' father in time before the Reaper finds him or he's overrun by its forces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****  
> _Reaper Language:_  
>   
> 
>  **Alok, Kulaan. Motaad voth maar fah faal brii do yol!**  - Literally: Arise, Prince. Shudder with terror for the beauty of fire!
> 
>  **Dir zohungaar fah hin jul zeim zofaas.** \- Literally: Die heroically for your kind through fear.
> 
>  **Nivahriin … Ruz dir vodahmin.**  - Literally: Cowardly ... Then die unremembered / forgotten.
> 
>  **Ru Kulaan. Zu fen du fod mu grind til sinon.** \- Literally: Run, Prince. I will devour you when we meet there instead.


	13. Menae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary terms:**
> 
>  
> 
> _  
>  Constinatum  
>  _  
>   (t.) - Taken from the word 'constitutum' meaning constitution
> 
>  
> 
> _Patruus_ (t.) - 'Uncle'
> 
>  
> 
> _Irrumators_ (t.) - Bastards; used for non-turians
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  _  
>  Et requiem tibi spiritibus   
>  _  
>  (t.) - 'Spirits guide you'  
> 

All hell has broken loose by the time Jana makes it up to the top deck, sword and shield in hand. 

The ship has been thrown into a state of chaos as deckhands try to get the ship moving across the raging Apien Sea that thrashes the hull and sends tall sprays of salty water into her eyes. Soldiers aren’t given pause as they storm the upper decks and take to the skies to defend the Resolute from the twisted forms of Reaperized turians.

Just as Jana thinks she and the others will be useless in this fight, the things that General Corinthus called ‘Demons’ reveal themselves to Jana and the others as a group of them dives down to attack the ship itself. She freezes as their wings throw smoke at them as they flap to land on the decks, unsure what she’s seeing has  _ ever  _ been turian.

Bodies twisted and mutated beyond noticeable recognition, the Demons have the wings and upper bodies of turians still wearing scraps of armor and clothing, but jagged spines cover their bodies, very prominent where turians have natural rises in their plates on their forearms just below their elbows and slicing through their natural carapace on their back along their spines. Their wings have extended along their sides, connecting to where their legs have been twisted and fused into an elongated, deadly tail with a large, sharp barb on the end. Talons have turned to claws, long and deadly and their mandibles seem to have fallen off to give room for their frightening fangs, already intimidating teeth turned into the mouth of a monster.

“Oh, God,” she whispers as she steps back from one landing on the railing of the deck, perched on its hands as it hisses and spreads its wings.

It’s only a distraction, they soon realize, as more swoop by and drop flightless beasts onto the deck.

_ More Corrupted …. _

She can barely recognize the original species of the small pack of creatures snapping their sharp, jagged teeth and growling at them. They crawl on all fours, their legs distorted to claws, and back arched beneath tatters that can’t even be considered clothing anymore. Saliva drips from needle-sharp teeth as they snarl, their faces twisting into monstrous, failed attempts at looking anything like a human. Their eyes are dead and flesh just starting to rot, showing that some have enough changed enough that spines jut from their backs.

“Don’t let the Ghouls bite you,” Jameson shouts aside to her as Liara throws a protective spell around them. “Even if you kill it, you’ll still be afflicted with its poison.”

“Protect the crew!” Jon calls, lifting his sword as he takes quick steps towards the creatures, spurring them to charge forward.

Jana glances to Tali and gives her a nod towards a wall of some kind of cabin on the deck. “I’ll defend you. Try to see if you can get those Demon bastards from attacking the others from above.”

Tali nods and pulls a crossbow bolt from the quiver on her hip and rushes to the cover, Jana right behind her. She starts to load her crossbow, nocking the bolt as Jana shakes out her sword hand.

She knows she can’t go into the middle of the battle with the huge shield she and Jon both agreed is much too cumbersome for her, but she can defend her friend. The size of the shield will come in handy here, where it’s just her and Tali backed up against a wall and trying to take down Reaper forces from the sidelines.

Just as a Ghoul seems to have caught on to their plan, Jana sees something fall from the sky and land hard on the deck. It’s definitely not turian and she has a feeling there weren’t any other species in Cipritine when the Reaper attacked willing to board a boat to fight so that only leaves the possibility of another Corrupted creature. She gives Tali a glance and motions her head to shoot the incoming Ghoul as Jana prepares to slash at whichever of the creatures reaches them first, the human Corrupted or this new one that’s climbing to its feet.

Though humanoid in shape, there is no way Jana can tell what the rotted Corrupted beast once was. What little flesh remains is stretched thin over swelling tissue and sinewy muscles. It’s too bloated from decay to be recognizable, but the axe in its hand definitely is and Jana knows she’s going to have to take it down before the Ghoul gets to them to add more difficulty. They’re not in the best position with their backs against a wall, but it’s the only way to keep attacks from behind out of the picture.

“Focus on the Ghoul,” she tells Tali, not taking her eyes from the bloated monster. “I’ll work on  _ that  _ thing.”

Jana bends her knees and uses the shield as cover, letting it settle on the deck so she can pivot it in an attack’s direction without having to tire her arm with carrying it. 

The beast screams out a garbled shriek as it charges, gnashing its many, needle-like teeth. 

_ Batarian …. That thing must be  _ **_batarian_ ** _ …. _

The decay must make the corrupted monster slow as it swings its axe but Jana angles the shield to take the blow. Stepping forward, she pivots the shield to throw the weight of the blow aside, stumbling the creature. She slashes with her sword, the tip of her blade slicing through the bulbous flesh of its torso with a sickening squelch as black, fetid blood pours down its front.

The axe falls to the ground as the beast moves to use teeth and fingers decayed to the bone instead. It hisses and charges, giving Jana no other option than to drop the shield so she can quickly sidestep, parrying the attack with a swing of her sword upwards from its hip up along its side. 

More brackish blood falls to the wet deck and she pays careful attention not to step in it as she rounds the creature. Grabbing the handle of her sword with both hands, she yells out as she slings the sword into a downward blow, bringing it down on the monstrous batarian with all her might. Most definitely slowed by the decay taking over its form, the creature doesn’t move fast enough to avoid the blow, its heads making a sickening sound as her blade cuts through the swollen flesh and into the bone of its skull.

The sound is so clear that Jana can’t help the slight cringe as the beast falls to the ground with a thud, but she can’t hesitate as she rushes back over to Tali to help act as a guard with the large shield. 

“Jana, look!” Tali shouts, pointing upward just before Jana can make it over.

Jana stumbles to a stop as a body falls to the deck with a loud crash. Its massive wings don’t seem to have been able to catch it as one trembles, deep gouges taken out of the flesh and rendering it useless. She prepares herself to fight a corrupted turian when the form shifts but breathes a sigh of relief when it can stand on legs the corrupted seem to lack. She can’t tell who it is or if she can recognize them by the closed helmet, but she gives them a firm nod when they look to her.

_ Keep fighting. Don’t give up …. Even if they’ve taken your wings …. _

She knows the turian is down a means of fighting with their now crippled wing, but they don’t falter as they return her nod, bend down to grab their sword, and trade places with her to join the battle from here on the deck of the Resolute.

Rain pours down in torrents as the Resolute pulls to the docks of Menae, urgency forcing members of the crew to fly to the slick docks with the heavy ropes to tie down before the ship’s anchor chain comes to a complete, jarring stop. A handful of turian soldiers from the skies above drop to the deck to clear it of wingless Corrupt alongside Jon and the others, either with their weapons or by simply grabbing the creatures to fly up and drop them into the depths of the thrashing sea. 

“Let’s go,” Jana yells to Tali, kicking one of the Corrupt on all fours away before stabbing her sword into its back.

Tali quickly nods and sends one last bolt into a bloated Corrupt before chasing after Jana across the slick deck. Jon looks to them and gives a firm nod before turning to Liara and Jameson, jostling Jameson’s shoulder as he shouts at them to start moving. Giving a final backward glance at Jana and Tali, Jon doesn’t bother to sheath his sword or shield as he runs behind the others towards the stairs that’ll take them down to their horses.

Jana lets Tali go first so that she can watch their six and protect her friend if any Corrupt manages to break away from the battle with the turians fighting on the deck amongst the deckhands. She hasn’t had the chance to sheath her own weapon or shield, but she doesn’t want to get separated from the others in the fray. Between the blinding rain and salty sting of waves breaking over the deck and the turmoil of clanging weapons and snarling beasts, Jana is sure that she’ll be lost if she gives even a moment to distraction instead of keeping her eyes on the bright purple of Tali’s suit.

With crew rushing up the steps as they push to take them down, the group must split up into a single file, holding themselves close to avoid disrupting the crew and soldiers as they hurry to empty the Resolute of warriors so it can return to Cipritine to repeat the cycle. Because of that, there’s a moment where Jana can sling the heavy shield’s strap over her head and shoulder, knowing that keeping it at her side is only going to take up more space and possibly get her pushed off the stairway cutting through the decks. 

Tali makes it to the slick stairs, but Jana is stopped from keeping close as a cluster of turians erupts from the lower deck like a wave of their own. She barely manages to turn aside to give them room, trying to present less of a barricade since she can’t get completely out of the way because she knows that if she doesn’t stand firm, she’ll be unintentionally pushed back and further away from catching up with the others.

The shifting of her body turns out to be a saving one as she just barely catches a rotted corpse rushing across the roof of a cabin on the top deck and near the stairway. It leaps from its perch just as the flow of men and women rushing along the steps clears and she catches the heavy swing from its sword with her own, but just barely. Though she knew gravity’s pull on its body towards the deck would add to the force of its swing, she isn’t fully prepared for the blow with only her sword as her defense and she stumbles, back foot slipping on the slick deck.

_ This is it …. _

The killing blow doesn’t come, though. Quickly looking up to the creature’s bloated, disfigured face, Jana lifts her sword to strike but is completely stunned when - without warning - the thing coughs a mouthful of black, brackish blood on her. She just has enough time to step out of the way as it collapses, gagging at the smell of the half clotted blood on her face as she finds a dagger jutting from the back of its deformed head.

“Come on,” a voice says, breaking her from her shock, and she looks up to see Garrus’ mother, the majority of her face still shadowed by her hood. “We have to go or we’ll never get off this ship.”

“Yeah …. Yeah,” Jana agrees just as a shadow covers her and the turian woman right before Garrus lands with a heavy thud on the roof the Corrupted corpse had just lept from.

He flares his mandibles at the sight of the beast at Jana’s feet before jerking his head for Jana towards the steps. “Go. I’ll get my mother to shore while you catch up with the others. Get our  _ lacertas  _ off the ship too. We’ll move faster that way,” he shouts as he drops down from the roof, putting his bow back into place over his shoulder and wrapping a wing around his mother’s smaller form. “Don’t wait up for us at the docks if we aren’t there yet. We can meet up at the encampment they’ll have set up,” he adds as he points up to the rise of a hill just beyond the crowded, hectic docks with one hand as he wraps his other around his mother. “If I'm right on who's up there, just follow the flames.”

Jana’s mouth opens at the cryptic instruction, sure that flames aren’t a good sign after seeing the massive dragon flying over them and towards this island, but she can’t speak before Garrus spreads his wings. He kicks up off the ground and catches himself with a powerful sweeping motion of his massive wings, flying upwards with his mother tucked against his side as he heads for the shore amidst the chaos of battle in the skies.

Sheathing her sword, Jana shoulders her way through the much bigger turians on the stairs, not wanting to be left behind or the cause of wasting time if the others waited for her. She makes it to the hold just in time to find the others gathering up their horses, their weapons stowed away on their person or astride their saddles. Jon gives her a nod as she approaches, handing over  _ Alfi’s _ reins.

“Garrus says to bring out their  _ lacertas _ , but not to wait up for them,” she says as she lays a hopefully calming hand on the flat of the agitated horse’s snout. “He said ‘follow the flames’ and that’s where they’ll meet up with us … whatever that means.”

“He probably means the encampment for the turian forces that’ll be nearby.” Jon waves a hand to catch a crewman’s attention before pointing to the three  _ lacertas _ . “We’ll need those too,” he says before looking back to Jana. “Is his mother with him or still on the ship? Do we need to find a way to safely get her onto Menae?”

Jana shakes her head, pulling the reluctant horse as she follows close to Jon’s side. It seems like  _ Alfi  _ can sense the turmoil outside and Jana can’t blame the poor thing for wanting to avoid going back out there after the hell they’ve already put their mounts through getting to and inside of Cipritine. Even from the limited view outside of the lowered gangplanks is enough to make any lesser man pause at the fires billowing, clashing of metal, and beastly snarls and roars.

“Garrus has his mother at his side. I guess we just have to trust him if he thinks it’s better taking her by air,” she says, wiping the sweat from her brow as their group narrows so they can walk the gangplanks with enough room left for the turian soldiers to come and go. “She may have just saved my life up there …. At least it feels like it.”

Jon hums and gives her a forced smile, though the fight still remains bright in his eyes and in the way his body still seems prime for any attack. “She’s strong … but - and don’t let him hear this - she also needs our help. She’s not a warrior anymore, so we’ll need to watch after her while we’ll most likely need to fight our way across Menae.”

Jana doesn’t ask for more than that, sure that Garrus doesn’t want any family matters spread to a person that barely passes as an acquaintance. She also knows Jon well enough to realize that even what little he did tell her was more than he’d usually say and she’s grateful for even the slightest bit of preemptive warning in this kind of situation.

It’s not like she’s going to go spreading it about, gossiping like it’s some dirty secret, but she appreciates knowing that Garrus’ mother will need some backup if it comes to it. Jana’s happy to give it to the woman who most definitely saved Jana grievous injury - if not death - on the Resolute when she stabbed the Corrupted just before it took advantage of Jana’s failed defense. Plus, a part of Jana can’t help but imagine she’d do the same for her own husband and his mother had circumstances been different. 

She never got to know about Garrus’ mother, only found out about her through Shadow Broker files after his death and the realization that he was hurting too much to confide in her still stings. She may not have been able to do anything but offer comfort and supportive words, but finding a piece of his life once she’d lost him hurt more than any gunshot wound.

The docks seem more organized as soldiers file out of the ships and either into the fray in Menae’s skies or rush towards the encampment Jana can just barely see on the top of the ground’s steady incline. A sense of distress and fear still permeate the air, however, and Jana can get a good look at faces from atop  _ Alfi’s  _ back. She sees a determination, a burning desire to protect their home, but also an uncertainty blanketing the younger turians.

This could be the very first, major war they’ve ever been in … and it’s just the beginning.

Forcing her eyes away from the young soldiers that push forward and upward despite their hesitance - true turians in their devotion to serving the greater good even in the face of fear - Jana catches Garrus and his Praetorians land just past the docks. They are within the guarded space below fighting from above and that on the land beyond the cluster of soldiers and Jon points to them from atop his horse, calling out to the crew guiding the  _ lacertas _ to hand over the creatures’ reins.

Jana takes the lead of what she thinks is Sidonis’ brownish-gray mount and follows the others, using  _ Alfi’s  _ broad chest and size to push through the crowd behind Jon and the others. As the crowd fans out into the battlefield, Mierin catches sight of them and gets Garrus’ attention, waiting for him to let loose an arrow into a passing Demon before motioning their incoming mounts. He jerks his head towards Jana and the others as he and Lantar hold off any Corrupted whose attention they’ve caught.

Mierin shoulders some of Garrus’ mother’s weight, helping her along to meet the others as they approach. Helping the royal queen onto Garrus’ mount, Mierin then quickly climbs into her own  _ lacerta’s  _ saddle. Only then does Garrus and Lantar fall back from the fight to get to the group.

“How does the field look?” Jon asks as Garrus climbs into his saddle, knowing that the turians have a better look at what lies ahead from their earlier vantage in the air. 

“Lantar and Mierin will take the front, I’ll follow,” Garrus says with a motion towards the top of the rise. “My father will have left someone he trusts to hold the first line. They’ll know more about the situation with the Normandy’s arrival.”

Jon nods in understanding, waving the others to follow as they urge their mounts into a brisk pace. They can’t gallop outright with the battle around them, sure not to topple over any turian soldiers fighting the flightless Corrupt on the ground, but they’re fast enough that any tails that may try to snap at their horses’ feet are diverted into battle with more stationary targets. Jana is still grateful Garrus and his Praetorians are clearing the way with Mierin’s magic throwing any obstacles back and Lantar slashing any Corrupt he passes, leaving any airborne Corrupt to Garrus’ bow. Breaking through the thicket of battle helps the group keep their mounts moving and safe from any attack in passing as they run towards the encampment.

There are fewer beasts breaking through the battle at the docks’ immediate vicinity and rushing up the incline to overcome the few soldiers left to guard the approach. It seems almost as if an entire battle had already taken place and left the earth charred and strewn with the twisted bodies of the Reapers’ Corrupted. Jana can’t believe the dragon would have been responsible, not with nearly all the bodies belonging to its army, but she’s at a loss of what could be so powerful to clear large expanses of ground with a scorching blanket of fire.

All she knows is that the turians fighting any breakthrough attackers and even Garrus himself doesn’t seem to be as concerned by the sight as she is. It’s almost as if they expected or at least were prepared for it.

The encampment’s situated within a well-maintained fort, its walls tall around the central grounds where soldiers have thrown up tents for various facilities not immediately provided by the fort itself in such a sudden war. Commanding officers give orders from some of the larger tents, not having bothered to enter the protection of the fort’s towers in the urgency of the Reaper’s attack. Injured are carried into the towers instead, kept safe from the battle. Jana’s sure that doctors and the like are scrambling within the walls, trying to save any turian they can or - from the looks of some of the injured, no longer combatant soldiers in the fort - get them to a state where they can still be of some other use.

“You, soldier!” Garrus grabs the attention of a soldier missing an arm hurrying past with a spread of his wings and thundering of his vocals. 

Upon seeing the Atheling, the man stands at the best of attention he can without an arm to give the turian salute Jana’s seen others do.

Garrus jerks his hand to wave away the man’s quick change in posture. “Who’s the General in charge here?” he demands, glancing around the encampment. 

“General Malolin, Atheling,” the man snaps, turning sideways and pointing towards a wall divided by a tall guard tower at its midpoint with a much smaller entry where Jana can just barely glimpse the sight of battle through. “He took some of his cabal to clear the southern wall of any approach.”

Garrus nods, climbing from his  _ lacerta _ . “See to my mother,” he orders as he hands over the reins with one hand and offers the other to his mother to climb off of  _ Vidal’s  _ back.

“I can assist your commanding officer,” she says, brushing off her dress as she takes the reins from Garrus’ hand. “Go, now. Find the General and get back here quickly.”

Garrus dips his head to his mother’s command before waving the others to dismount. Jana, better at it than a mere handful of days before, hops from  _ Alfi’s  _ back and lets another soldier the one-armed turian had waved over take her reins. The others do the same, handing over their mounts to be taken out of the direct way of bustling soldiers rushing through the fort on their own orders. 

Garrus merely gives them a nod before turning towards the small archway leading out onto the southern battlefield and leads the way, not bothering to holster his bow as Jon jogs to his side, leaving the two Praetorians to directly follow on their sides with Jana and the others bringing up the rear. Jon unsheathes his sword in anticipation, acting as a silent direction for the others to draw their weapons as they pass beneath the thick stone archway, soldiers at the ready giving a stiff, but quick salute as the group passes before turning their attention back to the skies above and field just past the fort’s walls.

The battle is much more controlled on this far end of the fort, the Corrupt not yet gaining enough ground to encircle the fort - apparently thanks to General Malolin’s steadfast hold on the whole of its perimeter. There is a much smaller number of turian soldiers holding this approach, but Jana can see by the bright flashes of magic amongst the glimmer of blades in the sky that these cabal soldiers the one-armed soldier mentioned are in fact the reason the southern gate hasn’t been overrun.

It isn’t the sight of the cabal forces battling in the sky that catches her eye or sends a wave of awe through her quite like the sight of a single turian hovering lower to the ground, attention on the ground forces sprinting down the field. From the look of their armor that looks straight from a fantasy of dragons much like the spiked, intimidating ones of Garrus’ Praetorians, Jana can only imagine this turian is, in fact, a Praetorian themselves.

No one else seems to be able to wear that kind of armor except for the elite force directly responsible for the royal family’s safety. Their heavy hood hides their head and gender, but she doesn’t need to see their face to know they’re someone to take notice of because no average soldier could stand before a small army with nothing but their empty fists, not a single weapon on their person that she can see.

_ Are they a mage? Without a staff? Is that possible? _

She realizes quickly that it is, indeed, very possible when the Praetorian crosses their arms, fingers curled into open fists that ignite with a blinding light. Flames lick along their forearms, fanning within the enclosed space of their slightly curled wings. 

With a powerful, sudden spread of their wings, arms snapping out and to their sides, an inferno roars to life from their body to blanket the Corrupt. The Reaper forces ignite before the Praetorian, many dying before their bodies can completely stop running and thus grinding to a mass of charred bodies at the mage’s feet. The other soldiers quickly dive down on what few Corrupt remain, slaughtering the weakened beasts before they can regroup from their injuries.

“ _ Keelah _ ,” Tali whispers at the destruction and the Praetorian turns their head to the sound, the fire glowing in their eyes shadowed by the deep hood dimming as the last vestiges of their magic dissipates.

With a last look over the field, the Praetorian comes to them, landing with levity even in such imposing armor that still manages to surprise Jana even after seeing it so many times with Lantar and Mierin. He dips his head and gives the open fisted salute to Garrus before rumbling and addressing them properly.

“Atheling,” the turian - a male whose scarlet mandibles are just barely visible from beneath the hood - says with a quick glance at the rest of the party, “I hadn’t expected you to be here. Your father took to the north in search of the Normandy.”

“I know,” Garrus growls and balls his free hand into a fist before relaxing it. “The Normandy wasn’t sent here on Templar Shepard’s orders,” he says with a motion to Jon before he lets out a long breath. “Tassius,” he continues, dropping the formality with the apparently close Praetorian, “I need to know. What must the state of the northern shore be?”

The Praetorian hums with a slight flick of his mandible. “If the Corrupt are arriving at Menae from this shore alone, then there’s a larger chance your father is holding at or near the Normandy.” He stiffens his back, lifting his chin as his wings tuck themselves neatly against his back. “I’ve stayed behind to keep any ambush attempts at bay.”

“And for that, we thank you,” Jon says with a nod, sheathing his sword. “After all you and your men have been doing here, General, we’ll be able to ride to the Normandy much faster than we would should we have had to fight the entire way.”

The General is quiet a moment as he seems to study Jon before he finally hums low. “I can’t guarantee Corrupt haven’t made their way inland through other means. The blackened skies and numerous Corrupt have made it hard to gauge if any Demons have flown further up the shoreline instead of directly attacking the ships or Fort Constinatum. Your father may be dealing with his own battles.”

Garrus frowns beneath his own hood and pulls his mandibles tight to his jaw. “How many men had he taken in his entourage? How many Praetorians?”

General Malolin is quiet for a long moment, seemingly debating on whether or not to tell his true opinion or not. Jana has a feeling that the close relationship the two seem to have is what makes him finally admit, “Too few. It’s been days since he left and we’ve received no word of his arrival, departure, or attempt to retreat back to Fort Constinatum.”

That hits Garrus hard as he looks away, but Jon lays a hand on his shoulder and the action seems to steel Garrus’ nerves enough to address the General once more. “Join us, Tassius,” he says with a deep rumble before jerking his head to the cabal clearing the last of the Corrupt in the field and sky. “Take some men, leave the others, and join us to the northern shore.”

“Garrus, there needs to be a General here to see that this fort is not overrun. If we lose Constinatum, we lose any opportunity to approach Menae by its shore.” He quiets a moment before stepping closer and laying a hand on Garrus’ shoulder. “I will send some of my men to escort you some of the way. At least out of the immediate reaches of the Corrupt coming across the sea with the ships. But other than that, I need my men.” Rumbling, Tassius flares his mandibles slightly. “And you know a smaller group is less likely to attract attention.”

Garrus huffs slightly. “You would know …. You’re the one who said it.”

“He’s right,” Jon agrees, turning to the others with a motion to the fort. “We should hurry. I don’t like the idea of the Primarch waiting in the north because of a miscommunication with the Normandy.”

“You’re right,” Garrus agrees with a rumble, giving the General a last look. “Taetrus hasn’t been affected by the war yet.”

Humming, Tassius dips his head as if in thanks for whatever that cryptic message may mean. “Your father had already given me leave to send a handful of my men to see to it. They can hold the city better than the Taetrian guard alone while they’re there.”

Garrus rumbles with a single flick of a mandible before nodding. “Don’t get yourself killed,  _ Patruus _ . Hold here, but be ready for an even bigger battle.” He glances at Jon and Jon nods with a stern expression before he turns back to the General and says, “We plan to build an army of more than just turians and humans to fight the  _ Irrumators _ .”

“You know I’m always at the service of the crown.  _ Et requiem tibi spiritibus,”  _ Tassius says with a final salute against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **General Tassius Malolin** belongs to [Wafflesrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wafflesrock/pseuds/Wafflesrock). I highly recommend her Ring of Fire series if you want to see more of him.  
> 


	14. Primarch Castis Vakarian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Dictionary terms:**  
> 
> _Deodamnatus_ (t.) - Dammit
> 
>  **Captain Tenzen Vallokius** belongs to [Wafflesrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wafflesrock/pseuds/Wafflesrock)  
> 

Unfortunately, the Praetorian General’s suspicions prove correct when they find that Corrupt have begun to attack further along the coastline of Menae. While not close to the same numbers as those attacking Fort Constinatum, it’s enough for Jon to call for a change of approach towards the northern shore where - they hope - the Primarch is holding up at the docked Normandy. 

Diverting the party away from the shoreline and further inland adds time they know they don’t necessarily have to their already hurried trek, but there’s an unsaid understanding among them all that there’s a war raging at the breadth of the Apien Sea at their side, creeping up the coast slowly but steadily. Riding ‘as the crow flies,’ they all know, will only catch them in skirmishes with however many packs of Corrupt that have managed to land at the coast and they have neither the time nor energy to waste when they have no idea of what lies in wait at the docks on the northern shore of the island.

Even as they hug the very base of the steep slopes of Menae’s inland cliffs, they find themselves running from stray Corrupt that have stolen inward. There are smaller forts and encampments of soldiers all along the roads that are as prepared for the fast approaching enemy as they can be. They do their best to cut the Corrupt off before they can attack the group racing across the island, but there are still some instances where the party has to stop to fight off their pursuers.

Jana isn’t sure where they’d be if Jon and Garrus hadn’t convinced General Malolin to send some of his men with them to guard the party because with the extra turians in their group, they’ve more often than not been able to split off to distract their pursuers while those needed at the Normandy can push their poor mounts ever harder, the soldiers catching up only when the party has no choice but to stop for rest before they kill the exhausted animals.

Jana feels for Garrus who’s practically seething with pent up anger, frustration, and panic, but there’s little she or anyone else can do. His mother does her best to soothe him with a calming confidence that almost radiates off her in physical waves, but it’s obvious even she has her doubts about their situation. They’re already so behind the Primarch in reaching the northern shore and they lack the unnatural capabilities to push themselves beyond what Jana would think physically possible like the Corrupt can, leaving them victims to exhaustion and basic needs like sleep, food, and water.

Though not as bright as the Cipritine’s glow, a light begins to shine on the horizon like a beacon against the pitch-black of the sky and pouring rain. Seeing it seems to give the group an even greater sense of urgency and they kick their mounts into an unforgiving, brutal pace as they rush towards what has to be the northern coast where Garrus’ father waits.

“There!” Garrus calls out, pointing to the sky where the silhouette soars across the sky above, the lightning that flashes in the clouds illuminating it as a larger sized bird. “That has to be _Indignitus_! We’re close!”

Jana looks to the bird in the sky and hears a long, shrill cry. Her gaze drops to the sound’s source and finds Garrus’ mother perched higher on _Vidal’s_ back, her arm out as if calling to the bird above. She makes another high pitched call and Jana’s stunned to see when _Indignitus_ actually responds, circling the group as it flies towards them. Jana realizes Garrus’ mother must be skilled in some kind of falconry - or has at least practiced with this bird - as she catches the large creature on her arm without Garrus ever slowing his _lacerta_.

Jana’s never quite seen a bird that looks like _Indignitus_ , but she can see why the Primarch of Palaven would choose it to be important enough that it’d earn a name. It’s larger than falcons she’s used to having seen in vids and at least four feet long from its dangerously sharp looking beak to its tail, but that isn’t what’s so unique - so intimidatingly interesting - about it. 

With bright eyes of yellow encircled by a bright red, slender head, curved beak, and tuffs of feathers that frame its beak, the bird looks more deadly than any other birds of prey she’s seen from vids. It’s feathers almost look like spikes that have been painted a rich, striking blue as it curves its neck at some wordless command Garrus’ mother gives it as she unties something from its leg. Jana watches as Garrus’ mother lets the bird take flight once more, eyes taking in the sight of its massive, black wings flapping as it soars higher.

A small scroll seems to have been tied to _Indignitus’_ leg and Garrus’ mother leans her body closer to Garrus to keep a better balance as she unravels the piece of parchment.

Her voice is firm as she speaks, but Jana’s quick glance at her face betrays the woman’s concern as she relays the message. “He’s calling for aid. The Reaper is at Fort Datriux.”

_I was wondering where the bastard went to …._

Garrus says something under his breath, a curse no doubt, but doesn’t otherwise respond as he shouts at his _lacerta_ to push it faster. He takes the lead and they race to the fort as fast as they can, hoping to arrive before the Reaper can cause the same amount of destruction it had to Cipritine.

Their horses are sweaty and panting - and Jana can swear she even hears small sounds of discomfort and pain from them when the riders shift in their saddles - by the time they reach the barricades of Fort Datriux. Battle hasn’t yet made it up from the water to breach the Fort’s walls, but Jana can still see soldiers preparing amidst efforts to treat and relieve those already fighting down by the docks. 

Though shocked to see him, the soldiers there make way for Garrus as he _finally_ gives his _lacerta_ a chance to breathe as he rides it into the fort’s massive gates. He doesn’t speak as he leads the others into stopping and getting off their mounts, helping his mother before turning to a soldier that’s come to address him from the bustle of the Fort.

“Where’s my father?” Garrus asks but doesn’t wait for an answer before turning to the few men General Malolin had sent with them. “Help the others by the water. We’ll need a clear way to the Normandy.”

The cabal soldiers give what Jana’s come to realize is the turian salute before rushing off towards the opposite gate of the fort. When Garrus seems ready for his answer, the female turian standing before him gives the salute with a flick of her green-painted mandibles.

“Your father is within, Atheling,” she says before dropping her hand and begins to lead the way towards one of the smaller towers set out from the perimeter wall. “He’s sent for aid, but that was only a moment ago.”

“We intercepted _Indignitus_ on our way here,” Jon says as he pushes to walk near Garrus’s mother as she follows Garrus and the soldier. “I have no doubt the Reaper’s here for the Normandy.”

“Then my father should have a plan.” Garrus leaves the soldier at the threshold to a chamber, pushing in past the turians at the ready for orders from their Primarch.

Garrus’ father stands over a large, wooden table where maps have been strewn about the surface and marked with pawns for what has to be soldier and Corrupt formations. He’s an imposing figure in his spiked, plated armor in a dark blue and black in contrast to his white plates and looks even more like a dragon than the Praetorians Jana’s seen. 

His eyes are a deep, intense gold when he glances up at the intrusion and a wave of relief washes over his face for just a moment before the Primarch mask falls back into place. As he stands to his full height, Jana gets a feeling of a stern, but just leader from the drastic change of the way he holds and carries himself as opposed to his much more relaxed - and even reluctant - son. Eyes sweeping over the group following his son and mate, the Primarch approaches them with squared shoulders and a royal lift of his head.

“Garrus …. You managed to make it here through Cipritine,” he says with a low rumble before going to his wife, taking her hand in both of his, and laying it softly against his mandible as they both share a near-silent purr. It’s a gesture he only lets them see for a split second, but Jana knows it well as a confirmation between the two of their relative safety.

She knows Garrus’ father must have been worried sick about his mother knowing they were a sea apart during this war.

“Primarch Castis,” Jon says, stepping forward, “My name is Templar Jonathan Shepard-”

The Primarch nods with a low hum. “Yes, I know who you are, Templar. My son has said much about you.”

Nodding in understanding, Jon adds, “I want to apologize for the confusion regarding our arrival. I hadn’t expected Councilor Udina to send for the Normandy.”

“We thought it’d be safer to come by land.” Garrus flicks his mandible. “Leaving by the Normandy is bound to attract attention now.”

The Primarch hums again, half turning to the large table of maps and strategic planning. “As unexpected as it may be, it just may prove a greater option than traversing the Apien Sea and cutting through Cipritine as it now is.”

Jon’s brows raise in interest as he motions the table laden with parchments. “Do you have a plan, Primarch?”

Garrus’ father nods with a low rumble, motioning them to follow him to the table and they crowd around, the turian commanders around making room for the newcomers to see their laid out plans.

“The Reaper knows the Normandy is here,” The Primarch says. “It’s protected within the cove, but the challenge will be getting it to open waters.”

“Where it can catch a Rift,” Garrus concludes with a flick of his mandible and Jon nods in agreement.

“Indeed,” Primarch Castis replies with a low hum before leaning over the map of the supposed ‘cove’ at the northern shore of Menae that has created a kind of cover from the dragon’s attacks. “That’s why we plan to distract it. We’ve been constructing our defenses since we caught sight of it on the horizon. Ships and shore are equipped with trebuchets and ballistas along with able-bodied soldiers primed and ready for any attack from the Demons and other Corrupt.” He glances up at Jon. “I’ve heard your ship is fast along with its ability to ride Rifts as Garrus claims.”

Jon nods, shoulders squaring and chin lifting in pride for his ship. “It is, your Primacy. With distraction keeping the Reaper’s attention, we only need to make it far enough to catch a Rift in the deeper waters.”

Garrus’ father watches Jon for a moment before he gives a slight nod and stands to his full height, the bend of his ivory wings seeming to rise higher as he straightens his back. “General Victus will escort us with a small fleet of what ships remain intact here in the cove. They will encircle the Normandy, defending it and launching an attack on the Reaper as it tries to target your ship.”

Jon frowns slightly, looking among the commanding officers in the room, one of which stands General Victus in a dark steel and blue armor, cape laying between his wings and a helmet under his arm. “We might lose a lot of your men and ships, Primarch,” Jon says as he quirks his brow in confusion. “The Reaper controls the skies and our weapons are slow ….”

The Primarch nods with a low, but deep rumble. “We’re all well aware of the risks. Observing the Reaper has shown that it’s fast - deadly - but just as Garrus has described the others you’ve come into contact with. It takes pleasure in attacking what ships and men we have trying to defend Fort Datriux. Where it could easily burn everything to the ground, it has chosen many times to directly attack, flying low and pressing its sheer size against us. It’s proud just as Garrus has described them and we plan to use that against it.”

“It doesn’t know how the Normandy works,” Garrus says, realization dawning on his face as he leans over the table and finally looks down at the pawn pieces representing the ships and gatherings of soldiers laid out across a map of the fort, coast, and sea beyond. “You’re planning on it thinking it can just pick off ships until the Normandy’s in the deep waters and defenseless.” When his father nods, Garrus pulls his mandibles in tightly and gives Jon a glance. “Are you sure?” he asks his father, standing up from the table. “We could be wrong ….”

“Then we never had a chance to begin with,” his father states plainly, assurance mixing with a dose of acceptance in his voice. 

_He knows we may all die in this crazy plan, but he’s right …. We can’t go back the way we came because we’d be in the same exact predicament._

_Hopefully, they’re all right with this ‘riding the Rift’ talk …. We’ll be sitting ducks in open waters if this were any regular ship …._

Jon cups his chin, eyes taking in every inch of the maps laid out before his jaw twitches in a forced swallow and he nods. “It’s our best chance. The Primarch is right,” he says as he turns to Garrus before giving the others in their group a look and firm nod. “We won’t have a chance across the Apien Sea. The Normandy can’t slip through a Rift there.” Turning to the Primarch after taking a good look at the turian commanders gathered around, he asks, “What will happen to the ships left of the escorting fleet?”

“We’ll do our duty,” General Victus says as he steps forward before giving a dip of his head to the Primarch. “We will get the Normandy to deeper waters and, with what’s left of my fleet, we will travel to the Citadel to rejoin you. We are fully prepared for the possibility that the Reaper will decide to destroy us even after the Normandy is safe, but it’s something we fully accept.”

_Die for the cause …._

It’s clear that Jon doesn’t like the idea of lives lost for the sake of one ship - granted, that ship will have nearly the entire royal family aboard - but he nods in acceptance. “Let me get my men aboard and let my crew know. We’ll be fully prepared for a Rift the very _second_ we arrive on one. I don’t plan to let your ships and men die if we can help it.”

Garrus’ father tilts his head slightly, scrutinizing Jon for a long moment before he nods. “Very well.” He looks to General Victus and the other commanding officers with a hum. “General, gather your men and alert your fleet.” He turns to a black plated turian, bright yellow stripes across his mandibles and chin standing out against the dark steel of his armor, and adds, “Captain Vallokius, as the senior officer of the remaining forces, you’ll be in charge of maintaining control of Fort Datriux and coordinating the war effort on Menae with General Malolin.”

The Captain gives the Primarch the turian salute with a dip of his head before he turns to a group of others - possibly other captains - and begins to give them orders to get to their ships and spread the word of their plans.

“Now, Templar,” Primarch Vakarian says, coming to Jon with a hum as the rest of the commanding officers give their ruler their salutes before rushing off to prepare their men. “Garrus has told me of the capabilities of your ship and I’ve read many things about how it can ride Rifts, but I still want an honest answer. Are you sure the Normandy can make it to deep waters quickly? I may have a small fleet to distract the Reaper, but I’m still hesitant to give the Normandy my full confidence. I’d rather not lose hundreds of turians to protect it, only to be nothing more than a mere nuisance to the Reaper.”

Jon squares his shoulders. “The Normandy can do it, your Primacy. We’ll do all we can to get away from Menae, but I can’t promise what’ll happen to your ships once the Normandy is gone. The Reaper may very well destroy your ships out of anger.”

Garrus’ father nods. “I’m aware of the possibility. They’ll die for the cause without question.”

Jon frowns slightly, but nods and motions the Primarch towards the door of the tower. “We should get you and your family aboard, your Primacy. The sooner my men and ship know our plans, the better.” 

“Jon.” Garrus stops as his father takes his mother’s hand in the crook of his elbow to guide her out. “What about your men still in Palaven? We won’t be able to dock higher up the coast if we’re slipping into a Rift.”

Jon gives a slight nod before calling out. “Primarch Castis,” he says, brushing past some of the turian guards following their Primarch out the door. “Is there a way we can send word to my men on the shores north of Cipritine? We’ll need to find another way to meet up with them.”

“I sent Severus to divert them away from Cipritine. To head north,” Garrus adds as he steps out into the rain pouring down ahead of his parents, turning back to them. “They’re bound to reach Iacus by the time we can get a raven to them.” He glances at Jon and flicks a mandible at Jon’s nod. “Jon’s party has a raven master. She can intercept the message.”

Garrus’ father looks down to Jon with a hum before glancing at one of the turians following closely, a turian in a set of lighter armor coupled with a deep blue robe. “Send a raven towards Iacus and the northern shore where Templar Shepard’s crew await. Tell them to head to where the Path of the Spirits meets the sea.” He looks to Jon and explains, “It’s the largest river in this area of Palaven and the Reaper won’t be able to travel up the coast as fast as the Normandy if you take it into deep waters, then change course once we’re out of danger.”

“Good idea,” Jon agrees with a nod in an apparent silent gesture to the messenger to run off to his task. “Even if Praetorian Severus isn’t with them, my navigator, Stephen, will be able to find the Path of the Spirits on his maps.”

Primarch Vakarian doesn’t respond as he leads his mate, her hand tucked neatly in the soft spot of his elbow in between the pieces of armor. He seems unbothered by the rain coming down hard, instead taking his offered helmet under his arm as he shouts orders to any soldiers he passes not already hurriedly following given orders. Jana sees a large trebuchet being pulled through the large archway ahead, at least eight turians hauling it towards the large outcropping overlooking the cove, their feet slipping in the mud. 

_This must be a reason why they have their toes uncovered. Boots would only slide and the sheer weight of the trebuchet would drag them back down the incline …._

“Jameson, Jana, and Tali,” Jon says, stopping to turn aside to them and point back towards the entrance they approached the fort from. “Gather the horses and bring them to the Normandy.”

“And the _lacerta?_ ” Rain runs in rivulets over Jameson’s helmet, flicking off as he jerks his head towards the large entrance.

Giving a slight shake of his head, Jon steps out of the way of a group of turians walking past with a chest of what must be some kind of supplies for Garrus’ father as they start to follow the Primarch towards the docks. “Leave them. The Captain in charge here will find a use for them.”

“They’ll probably be good muscle in this sludge,” Garrus adds with a nod before turning to Jana and flicking his mandibles at her. “I’ll alert the Normandy’s marshals that you’re bringing them in. They’ll get ready to secure the horses.”

“Right,” Jameson shouts over a rolling boom of thunder before motioning Tali and Jana to join him.

The mud is thick and sucks at her boots, but maintaining as fast a pace as they can given the circumstances keeps the sludge from forming suction that’s too strong to get out of. It makes loud smacks and Jana has to give Tali a hand out of a sudden hole her foot’s found, but they make it to the stables where the turians tending to the animals have thrown down dried grass for footing.

“We’re taking the horses,” Jameson says to what looks like the closest thing to a stablehand there is here in the fort, bare save for a few pieces of armor and stained apron.

“And what am I to do with the _lacerta?_ ” The turian growls and motions the small hut someone has turned into a place to tie down mounts. “This place isn’t suited for animals!”

Jameson gives the male turian an apologetic look but grabs the reins of his and Jon’s horses in each hand. “I don’t know …. Ask Captain - what was his name?” he asks Jana and Tali as they’re untying the other horses.

“Vallokius,” Jana answers, pulling her horses behind her as she walks to the turian, Tali and Jameson already heading under the archway of the fort’s walls and into its muddy grounds. “Maybe you can use them to pull heavy equipment? I’m sure they can crawl through the mud ….”

“Jana!”

Giving one last look to the frustrated turian, Jana leaves him to haul the horses towards the fort and follows behind Tali and Jameson with their horses. She feels for the guy, knowing he’s probably been given the task as an afterthought now that they _do_ have animals to tend to but hopefully those left behind at Fort Datriux can come up with some use for them. It’d be a shame to just let the animals loose for the sake of not having to care for them. 

At least, she hopes that’s what they’d do any not something worse … like let them starve or … or eat them.

_But, then again, this is war. Food may become scarce pretty damn fast and it might be the only option._

Shaking off the thought, Jana focuses on the loud squelches of the horses’ hooves in the mud as she guides them through the bustling fort and towards the docks just a short way past the opposite archway. The horses drag _her_ more than the other way around, but she’s grateful for the fact that she can use their momentum to keep from getting stuck in the muck.

By the time they get to the Normandy, Bettrice and Sybill are there and waiting to help. They take the extra horses and guide them up the gangplank and onto the cargo deck. There are stables along the wall for the mounts. They aren’t much, but it gives the animals room to move around and a sturdy beam to tie them to so the two marshals can start to strip the horses of their heavy gear.

Jana starts to help unpack _Alfi_ , but Jameson stops her with a hand on her shoulder. Looking to him in confusion, she catches him motioning to Tali before jerking his head towards the stairs.

“We’re almost ready to leave.” He smiles and pulls off his helmet. “You might want to see this. It’s quite the thing to see the Normandy in action.”

“You sure?” Jana pats the soaked horse’s rear. “I don’t want to get in the way ….”

“I’d like to see how this ship can ‘ride a Rift,’” Tali says with a slight wring to her hands. “I don’t know what that means, but everyone’s making it sound like something only the Normandy can do.”

Jameson nods and takes the pack Jana untied from _Alfi_ from her hands. “Go. It’s going to be hectic up there, but maybe you can find a way to, I don’t know, defend the deck while you’re really there to see the ship in action.”

Jana gives Tali a quick glance before finally nodding. “Tali, get your crossbow,” she says as she grabs her sword from the sheath on _Alfi’s_ saddle, leaving her shield behind because of its cumbersome weight and shape. “Let’s go. If any Corrupt make it aboard, we can help the turians fight them off while Jon and the Primarch are busy.”

“Good idea.”

There aren’t as many turians packed into the Normandy as the Resolute, but Jana’s sure the difference in size is mostly the cause. Also, the Normandy isn’t meant to be a battleship in this escape, so posting too many soldiers aboard will only make the decks too crowded for the crew scrambling to get the Normandy to deep waters.

Getting to the top deck, Jana sees Jon and the Primarch at the helm, eyes taking in the field of ships in the waters around them as Joker prepares himself for the challenging task of maneuvering the field. A piercing cry splits through the thunder and Jana’s eyes rise to catch the large bird - _Indignitus_ \- soaring above the ship before flying towards Garrus’s father. The Primarch lifts his arm for the massive bird to perch, checking a scroll attached to its leg before turning to Jon and saying something Jana just barely catches.

“General Victus and his fleet are ready, Templar,” Garrus’ father shouts over the rain and Jon gives a stern nod.

“Everyone,” Jon calls out, leaning over the railing of the Normandy’s helmsman’s deck, “prepare yourselves for an all-out chase. The Reaper must _not_ catch this ship!”

Crewmen give their ‘aye’s and loud cheers of agreement as they rush to prepare to disembark from the docks. Jana and Tali are sure to stay out of the way as the crew rush about the deck and she sees Garrus moving about the few turian soldiers waiting for any attack that may fall on the Normandy once they’re movements begin to attract attention.

“Fight without leaving the ship,” he says as he passes each of them, laying a hand on a soldier that seems just a little less attentive. “If your feet aren’t touching this deck when a Rift opens, you’ll be left behind.” He gives the inattentive soldier a stern look to make sure his words sink in. “Keep connected to the Normandy and you won’t be stranded in open water.”

“Yes, Atheling!” They salute and spread about the deck, taking position at strategic places where it doesn’t seem to be in the crew’s way, but gives them the ability to intercept any Demons as they dive towards the ship with archers at higher posts on the deck.

Jana thinks that’s all Garrus has to say about the possibility of battle and that he’s soon to take position at his own perch, but he approaches her and Tali instead. It’s hard to read his expression under his hood, but he seems confident when he rolls his shoulders.

“Don’t worry about the Normandy. I’ve seen what she can do” he says and Jana can see the hint of a smile, though she still hears an underlying hum of nervousness. “If anyone can outmaneuver a Reaper, it’s our helmsman, Joker.”

Jana huffs a weak laugh. “Yeah, it was the same for us-”

A booming roar tears through the heaviness of the tension brought on by the storm and their unsure plans of escape, slicing through the air with a power that dwarfs the loud thunder that’s been chasing them all along their ride up the coast. For all their preparedness, soldiers and crew alike look up upon the dragon soaring overhead with trepidation, hands tightening on weapons or the ships’ ropes and lines.

“What are you waiting for?” Jon yells, pointing towards the open water that seems so far away. “We move or we die! Onward! Maker carry us!”

Even the turian soldiers feed on Jon’s urgency and commanding presence as they flex their arms holding their weapons, wings twitching in trepidation. Crewmen shout in exertion as they draw the sails and push the heavy cog to draw up the anchor, boots fighting for traction on the slick wood of the deck.

Ships anchored ahead of the Normandy in the cove guide the way into the open waters, leading the pack as they surround the Normandy like special cargo. Jana hopes the idea of overwhelming the Reaper with numerous targets is going to pay off as she watches all manner and sizes of ships make a break for the deeper waters of the sea.

“ **Til los mal hind do filok, Joor.** ” The booming, bone-chilling voice of the Reaper reverberates through Jana’s body as its shadow engulfs the Normandy when soars overhead. She can’t shake the feeling of it circling them like a predator circling its helpless prey. **“Aav hin vodahmin til fin Feim** ,” it says as it tucks its wings close and dives towards a large ship off the Normandy’s starboard side.

The turian ship gets off a large bolt from its ballista, but it skids off the dragon’s tough scales as it swoops over them, engulfing the deck with flames. The ship’s sails catch flame as if made of dry kindling, but the soldiers still fight, taking to the few places on the deck not awash with the blaze as they prepare their siege weapons for another attempt.

With the first attack made, the fleet comes to life like a flip of a switch. Staying within the formation encircling the Normandy, the larger ships capable of carrying the large ballistas and trebuchets launch their own offensive measures. Still this close to the shore, those weapons situated along the cliff of the coast can launch heavy bolts and boulders too, with each miss crashing into the ocean with heavy splashes that send even more salty water onto the ship decks to mix with the stinging rain. 

Though the soldiers aboard the Normandy are unable to fly up to combat the Demons and Corrupt they carry into the battle, Jana can see swarms of turians take to the skies to combat the Reaper forces. With the smaller beasts assaulting the ships while the Reaper flies over the field, there’s no rest for the crewmen of the ships as they try to keep their vessels afloat long enough to maintain that wall around the Normandy.

Holding her breath as the Reaper approaches the fleet once more after engulfing men on the shore in flames, Jana watches as it seems to zero in on the largest ship of the turian fleet sailing just ahead of the Normandy. She’s sure it has to be General Victus’ ship and she has a sinking feeling that it may very well be their best defense against the Reaper’s attention because of its sheer size overshadowing the Normandy. Without it so soon into their escape, they may not make it to deep waters.

Swooping down to get within fire breathing range of the large ship, the dragon gets close enough that when the soldiers aboard aim and fire their heavy weapons, a ballista manages hits its mark. A large bolt sinks into the juncture of its broad belly scales. It’s a once in a lifetime shot and one that’s sure to never happen again, but it sends a rush of hope through her as she watches the Reaper roar and change course, giving a mighty flap of its wings to rise away from the ship and any possible follow up ballista shots.

It’s a small success as Jana sees that more ships have begun to catch fire, some already sinking, from the Corrupt attacks.

Seemingly angered by its injury, the Reaper swoops down over the fleet, not even bothering to stop and focus on a single ship as it breathes fire in its wake. Too many ships ignite in bright flames too strong for the rain to help tame in any way and it engulfs ships much too close to the Normandy. A good number of its escort on its port side are blanketed in Corrupt and fire alike, the heavy weapons all but useless as the crew and soldiers aboard have much more pressing matters to deal with.

“ **Daanik los nust wo krif Faal Unahzaal** ,” the Reaper snarls as it flexes its body, thrusting its feet forward into a smaller ship before sinking its massive claws into the hull and lifting what little remains of the destroyed vessel in its grip - which isn’t much more than splintered boards and its upper deck’s sails and structures - into the sky. 

Jana grinds her teeth at the screams of turians as the Reaper soars high, kicking its feet to send the wreckage flying into another, larger ship like nothing more than a bundle of weighty trash. The larger ship’s sails shatter and many of the turians on the upper deck are unprepared for the attack and either injured by debris or outright killed by the sheer size and weight of what hull from the ship the Reaper managed to grasp in its claws.

“We’re getting torn apart!” Garrus shouts to Jon and his father, growling as he motions his hand towards the destruction and chaos. “We need to move faster!”

Neither of the commanding, stoic men speak as they stare forward, eyes latched onto the deeper, darker waters of the open ocean.

“ _Deodamnatus_!” Hitting the railing of the Normandy’s deck with his fists, he turns to Jana and she can see the fire burning in his hooded eyes through the expression on his face.

“We’ll make it,” she says, though she’s not sure if it’s more for herself or him. 

“We _have_ to.”

One of the soldiers aboard calls out incoming Demons and Garrus growls, pulling his bow over his shoulder and slipping an arrow from its quiver. Jana is left without any real options to fire, but she steps aside to let Tali get a good view as she lines up her crossbow on the small flock of Demons that have focused onto the Normandy.

Tali’s first bolt grazes a Demon’s wing - that being the biggest target area on its body for her skill level and the amount of change in direction the strong winds are causing - and it dips in the sky just a fraction, mouth opening in an unheard noise as the tip of its tail cuts through the surface of the water. She curses under her breath and moves for another bolt when Garrus nocks an arrow, taking only a moment before letting go and sending the arrow slicing through the air like a hot blade without even the slightest wobble caused from wind interference.

Jana sees the Demon react more than she sees the arrow hit its mark, the beast screeching as its head snaps from the force of the arrow and it immediately crashes into the tumultuous sea, its body hitting a tall peak of a wave as if it were a brick wall. 

“Mark one,” Garrus says as he lowers his bow slightly, scanning the area for his next target.

_That was a hell of a shot …._

“Get ready for a jump!” Joker yells above the thunder and sounds of battle, hat either gone to the winds or put away somewhere where it won’t become a nuisance in battle.

A strange feeling engulfs Jana and she has to lay her free hand on the railing of the deck. It feels like sudden nausea and she fears she’s going to have a repeat of their trip to the Citadel, but there’s something odd about the sensation.

Like a pulling within, her stomach seems to churn as her blood ignites, skin surely flushing. A tingle fills her and she lays her hand on her stomach as an odd sense of … pleasure washes over and drowns out her nausea. She can swear she’s vibrating, but putting her hand back on the railing reveals that its the Normandy, a reverberation so rapid and strong that it almost makes her hand numb from the touch.

She can almost imagine the roar she sounds is full of sudden anger at being deceived and she looks up to see the world around her as a kind of … blur. She has her helmet on, but she sees everything as if the rain has washed over her face, getting into her eyes before she can wipe or blink it away. Objects fade into colors, which then fades into the darkness of the black and stormy skies, only the fires of burning ships all that cuts through the seeming nothingness.

_Is this a Rift?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****  
> _Reaper Language:_  
>   
> 
>  **Til los mal hind do filok, Joor.**  - Literally: There is little hope of escape, Mortal(s). 
> 
> **Aav hin vodahmin til fin Feim** \- Literally: Join your forgotten in the fade[Void] 
> 
> **Daanik los nust wo krif Faal Unahzaal**  - Literally: Doomed is they who fight The Unending/Eternal/Ceasless [Reapers].


	15. Differences

Coming out of the other side of a Rift gives Jana a feeling of whiplash, but not in the same physical way as she’d regularly describe it. It’s a lurching in her abdomen, her stomach twisting as her heart seems to thump against her sternum at the sudden stop of momentum. Even her mind feels like it’s been suddenly jerked still from reeling and spinning, thoughts jumbled and fuzzy as her vision clears.

“What was …” Tali starts, setting her hands on the railing of the deck to balance as Jana lays a hand on her chest as if to soothe the disconnected feeling surrounding her lungs.

Looking around and seeing the sky much brighter - though still carrying a shadow from the darkness that lurks in the sky far on the horizon - and a shoreline in sight, Jana lets out a deep breath that seems stuck in her throat from the shift in reality. She glances at Garrus, seeing his slightly concerned look and notices he seems much more comfortable than herself and Tali after what just happened.

“Was that a Rift?” she asks, dropping her hand from her chest to look at the coast they seem to be heading towards. “Where are we?”

Rumbling, Garrus shifts to stand beside her, looking out at the shore. “You mean Jon didn’t use it to escape the Reapers at Earth?”

Jana shrugs turning to him. “We weren’t here when Jon had to get off Earth.” She catches the confusion in Garrus’ eyes and corrects herself. “Get  _ away _ from Earth. Sorry, still getting used to that.”

His mandibles relax as he chuckles slightly. “No, it’s okay …. I was more curious  _ where  _ it was you managed to slip into our realm if it wasn’t at Earth.”

“Mars,” she says, moving to lean over the railing, her elbows on the dark wood. “It wasn’t the same place we left our … ‘realm’ from, but it’s where we arrived. I don’t know how, but it was with something we  _ thought _ was prothean before it did …  _ this _ ,” she adds with a motion of her hand to the air around them without shifting her position. “The Normandy didn’t do … whatever it was it just did since we’ve been on it.”

“Makes sense,” Garrus says with a low rumble and Jana gives him a sideways glance, though she isn’t sure if he sees it from the way she’s angled and his given height. “Riding a Rift like that is really risky. It draws a lot of attention ….” 

“What  _ exactly _ just happened?” Tali asks, crossing her arms as she looks past Jana to Garrus.

“Um … well …. I can  _ try  _ to explain it, but the scholars and EDI could explain it better than me by far. But if you want what  _ I  _ know,” he says, rumbling as he pushes his hood back from his face and off his crest. 

The sight of his face not shadowed by a hood or blurred by rain makes Jana swallow hard and itch to reach for her ring, but she distracts herself with listening to what he has to say. She can compose herself enough to sate her dying curiosity to understand this strange world. She feels she needs to if she’s going to adapt properly and learn to survive here.

“You already know about Fracture and how we can use it with Rift Gates, but the Normandy is special,” he starts, leaning a hip against the railing as he gazes off, as if trying to put together how to explain something he clearly isn’t the expert at. “The Normandy was made by my and your - well, humans  _ here’s _ \- best scholars. They translated runes from our respective Gates and … came to some questionable conclusions on how what they learned could be combined and used in tandem.

“They knew they couldn’t recreate a Rift Gate - not with what they translated - but they learned  _ how  _ Rift Gates can help us navigate the fractures all over Alysim.” He crosses his hands, drumming his fingers on his forearm. “Regular ships use compasses specifically designed from the runes on Gates and have the ability to track Rifts and help navigate them. Without them, ships would disappear in the deep waters. It’s a mystery why and no one has been able to answer it but the scholars used that knowledge to give the Normandy speed that was previously unheard of for any vessel of its size. But they weren’t satisfied with just that ….

“They put so much on faith in their studies and translations and … well, just plain luck when they started to transfer the combined runes from both the Charon and Trebian Gates into the very wood of the Normandy.” He drops his arms to run a palm on the wood of the railing at his side. “When we dock, take a look at its hull and you’ll see the runes carved into it …. It takes special knowledge to know how to actually  _ use  _ them to propel the Normandy through Rifts, but EDI covers that now.”

“If the Normandy is as successful as it is - I assume it  _ is  _ successful?” Jane stops and looks to Garrus to get his answer, continuing when he gives a nod. “Then if it works, why aren’t more ships made with these runes?”

“Aside from the fact that it’s still dangerous, attracts Reapers when used too often, and isn’t completely understood by its own creators? The scholars responsible for making it have either gone mission or died since the Normandy’s creation.” He hums and pulls his mandibles to his jaw, fidgeting a bit. “Jon and I - and some others - have a good feeling that Cerberus made sure they couldn’t share their findings or new translations they were still discovering after the Normandy was constructed.” He breathes a heavy sigh and shakes his head, looking aside to the shoreline. “There’s no telling how many years it’ll be before new scholars can translate, comprehend, and know how to use the entirety of the runes on the Normandy.”

Jane frowns, chewing the inside of her lip as she thinks on what he’s said, trying to further understand the makings of the ship. Deep down, it’s  _ somewhat  _ similar to FTL, but there’s a much more supernatural aspect to this world and its workings. 

She’s been reminded of that too many times to feign obliviousness.

“You said it attracts Reapers? Then why did we use it?” She stands up and lifts a brow towards him. “Won’t the Reaper know where we are now that we’ve come out the other side?”

Garrus’ attention returns to her and he smiles slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry …. Yes, Reapers can sense when we do it but the less we use the Normandy to manipulate Fracture, the less of a … pull we create. We don’t know  _ how  _ they know and track us, but we don’t think it’s instantaneous. Reapers don’t react instantly to it … so I think Jon and my father are confident that we shouldn’t have left a strong enough trail for the Reaper to come for us while we’re still at Aephus,” he says with a motion of his hand towards the shore the ship is sailing steadily towards.

Closer now, Jana can see a port city located where a large river feeds into the mouth of the sea. It must be the Path of the Spirits mentioned where Jon’s crew would be sent for pick up now that they’re out of the immediate reach of the Reaper. The water bustles with ships large and small, some obviously from Palaven or otherwise sailing damaged by some other means and, for the most part, it seems like the city hasn’t yet begun to realize the extent of the Reaper’s incoming impact on daily life here.

“Do you know if Jon plans on staying here long?” she asks him, turning away from the sight to seek Jon out on the helmsman’s deck.

“I doubt it.” Garrus hums as he seems to gaze out over Aephus before finally shifting away from the railing. “I should go see to my family …. I can return with Jon’s plans if you want?”

She looks up to see a slight smile to his fluttering mandibles and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it,” she assures. “Make sure your family’s settled. I’m sure I’ll get my answer pretty quick once we dock.”

Garrus is quiet a moment before nodding and moving away, but she calls to him.

“Oh, hey!” She takes a step forward to almost touch him to catch his attention but catches herself in a split second before making that mistake. “We didn’t bring your  _ lacertas  _ aboard.”

He gives her a confused look before it seems like the words sink in and he finally chuckles. “Well, yeah ….” When she doesn’t catch onto his apparent humor, his expression returns to puzzlement as he says, “Having a pack of hungry  _ lacerta _ trapped on a ship with a bunch of big prey animals?” He rumbles in amusement. “ _ Lacerta _ and horses don’t really travel together very well. Too much temptation, I guess,” he adds with a shrug and half-smile before taking his leave to approach the helm where his father is speaking with Jon.

“This is  _ incredible _ ,” Tali says and Jana lifts a brow at her friend. “It’s not too far off from what we do with Eezo-”

“Except Eezo can be explained by science,” Jana retorts but sighs as she takes in the city of Aephus and lays a hand on her chest where her ring lies beneath her gambeson. “This is so much more … unexplainable.” She huffs a weak laugh. “ _ Magic _ .”

Tali breathes out a long breath and crosses her arms. “How else would you explain us getting here? As much as I’m trying to explain things in my head, there’s a lot here that might just have to be accepted as is.” Turning to gaze out at Aephus beside Jana, she lays her hands on the railing. “We have to accept there are things here that work ... differently ….”

Jana hums and watches the ships they pass in the harbor on the Normandy’s way towards the docks. “I know …. I’m just trying to come to terms with it all. It’s taking … a long time.”

Tali is quiet a long time before a hand moves to lay on Jana’s shoulder. Jana has a feeling her friend knows just  _ why  _ she’s struggling to come to terms with the impossible things this reality has been throwing at them.

Or, more accurately, the impossible  _ person _ .

The two stand in silence, watching the Normandy and her crew as they come to the docks. For the most part, they aren’t in the way of the crew lowering the sails or dropping anchor as Joker expertly lines them up with the long wooden dock. From their height, they can see the hull below part as the crew down in the cargo hold lay out gangplanks.

Jon must have taken his leave from the helm long ago because it’s gone when he leaves the Normandy. He’s one of the first of the few humans and turians to step out and onto the water-soaked dock in time to greet an approaching turian. The turian isn’t dressed in armor, but average garb Jana’s seen around the Citadel. Maybe that of an official, she guesses, by the quality of his clothing and crisp colors of his tunic emblazoned with an insignia of a flying bird on his chest. He also holds a large scroll under an arm as he dips his head in polite greeting.

“Templar Shepard,” the turian says as he lifts his head, “We’ve been expecting you.” The man opens his scroll and begins to read, nodding his head. “Yes …. Your crew has arrived from Cipritine. A ‘Stephen Cortez’ has claimed responsibility in your absence.”

The tone in the man’s voice gives the feeling of a question, a glance from his scroll to gauge Jon’s face for any truth obvious to even Jana this high up.

“Yes,” Jon says with a nod. “That’s right. You’ll pardon my attire,” he adds with a motion to his armor, “and my haste in this situation.”

The turian - Jana assumes - dock manager flicks his mandibles and dips his head again. “Of course … I’m aware of the state of Cipritine …” He pauses and glances at the turians from the few soldiers the Primarch brought aboard as they pass, most likely heading towards what looks like merchants situated just at the head of the various docks. 

“Do I need to cover any expenses?” Jon crosses his arms and the turian closes the scroll with a straightened back.

“No, Templar,” he says. “My apologies if I gave that impression. I only meant to assure you that we’ve sent word to them on the Normandy’s approach. They were camped outside of the city, so they’ll need to make their way here …. If there is anything I or my men can assist you with ….”

“That’ll be all.” Jon motions the merchant shops at the end of the dock. “I’m sure the Primarch is sending some men to acquire some basic things he’ll need during our travel, so if they seem like they need assistance, I think they’d let you know.”

“The …. The Primarch?” The turian pulls his head back slightly, giving his mandibles a quick flick and Jana can tell he’s in stunned awe. 

_ Maybe it’s not so common to be around royalty in this universe as it is to be around lawmakers and dignitaries in ours. To tell the truth, I never got the feeling from Primarch Victus on my ship as I do from Garrus’ father in just this short time being around him _ .

“I’d prefer that to be kept secret,” Jon says with a stern look at the turian, opposing even with the drastic height difference between him and the much taller turian.

Drawing his wings tightly against his back, the turian composes himself and dips his head. “Of course. I won’t speak a word of it.” His wings relax a fraction when Jon nods in approval and he says, “I’ll see to the men from your ship and getting what wares they purchase to the Normandy promptly.”

“That’ll be much appreciated,” Jon says, relaxing his arms and nodding. “Thank you.”

The turian dock manager gives a final nod of his head in parting before hurrying off to either find his men and get them working on hauling supplies or to the merchants to try and catch the Primarch’s men before needing to be searched for. Something tells Jana that the turian is most likely strict with those who dock at his docks, but the idea of serving the Primarch in even a very minor way has him thrown and bustling to make everything go smoothly and quickly. 

Jane chuckles to herself at the thought that the turians’ supplies may very well be purchased, brought to the Normandy, and tied down long before Jon’s crew will make it through Aephus.  When Tali glance at her in question, Jana motions a hand towards the retreating turian.

“Saying the Primarch’s aboard really lit a fire under his ass, it seems,” she says with another chuckle. “I bet if he could get his men to carry the Normandy crew through Aephus on their backs just to get them here faster, he would.”

Tali shrugs but huffs a soft laugh. “At least Jon got him moving instead of pestering him with paperwork.”

“Looks like bureaucracy is the same in every universe. At least  _ I’m  _ not stuck with the paperwork now.”

The two laugh quietly to themselves as they keep watch on the docks, marveled at just how fast the dockworkers  _ are  _ moving the supplies the turian soldiers have procured. 

Eventually, in between escorting turian supplies onto the Normandy and speaking with dockworkers as they offer any bit of assistance to the Normandy’s crew coming and going across the gangplanks, Jon looks up to see Jana and Tali leaning over the deck’s railing to get a good look at him and the others down below. He smiles and holds up a hand to them, seeming to wait until he’s sure he has both of their attentions before he speaks.

“We’ll be off in short time,” he shouts up to them and drops his arm. “Once my crew is safely aboard and the turians have the last of their supplies, we’ll head north. You should change out of your armor, Jana.” Putting his armored hands on his hips he jerks a head to Aephus. “I plan to wait for the others, but I’m sure Jameson and Liara have already made themselves comfortable for the trip. No use you standing around in your armor when we’re not bound to find ourselves in any combat at sea.”

Jana gives Tali a questioning look before nodding and standing up from the railing. “Alright. I won’t say ‘no’ to getting out of this armor.” Turning to Tali, she smiles and tilts her head towards the stairs leading to the decks below. “Staying up here to …  _ watch _ ??”

Tali hums and glances back down - at Jon, no doubt - and fidgets a bit as she debates her choices. Jana knows Tali heard the teasing note to her question but is doing a fantastic job of not letting it show, perhaps getting confident in her admiration for Jon. Drumming her fingers on the railing, she finally straightens and nods, saying, “I’ll come.”

Jana smirks slightly and chuckles, putting a hand on her cocked hip. “You sure? I doubt there’s any better sight,” she responds quietly so only the two of them can hear. “I’m almost sure that you’re having a pretty good time watching what’s happening down  _ there _ . Going with me is going to be pretty boring in comparison.”

“Oh, shut it…” Tali says with a huff, finally giving a hint of shyness as she waves a hand at Jana. “...  _ bosh’tet _ .”

Jana laughs and heads for the stairs, bumping her friend with a shoulder as she passes. Tali follows behind, but something seems to be on her mind as she trails behind. Jana’s sure she’s debating going back to gaze on Jon below, but there’s a hint of nervousness to Tali’s downward glances as they walk that has Jana more concerned for what  _ really  _ seems to be bothering her friend.

Entering their room, Jana closes the door and finally turns to her friend and crosses her arms, raising a brow.

“Alright …. Something’s up with you. Spill it,” she says, but drops her arms and gives Tali a half-smile. “I was just teasing you up top. You know that, right?”

Tali hums, distant and lost in thought. “Hmm? Oh.” She waves a hand and nods. “I know …. You’re still a  _ bosh’tet _ , though.” With Tali growing quiet once more, Jana frowns and comes to sit on her bed across from Tali on her own.

She doesn’t speak, wanting to give Tali her own time to say what’s on her mind instead.

“I … have something to show you - but you can’t freak out,” Tali quickly adds with a stern look. “I don’t want you worrying ….”

Jana gives a hesitant huff devoid of any amusement. “That doesn’t really make me  _ not  _ worry.” At Tali’s exasperated drop of her shoulders, Jana holds up her hands. “Okay, okay …. I’ll keep a clear head. Just don’t keep me in suspense or I can’t promise anything.”

Tali seems to chew over what she has to say, gaze moving away from Jana’s as she wrings her hands in her lap. When she looks to Jana again, she seems to deflate with a long breath and moves her hands to smack her knees once before she stands, starting to pace.

“When we came here, all our tech malfunctioned …. I haven’t been able to fix it -  _ any  _ of it.” She pulls her hand to her voice modulator, fingers curled and thumb against the speaker for a moment in thought before she drops it. “My suit …. My suit  _ is  _ tech, Jana,” she finally says, stopping and turning completely to Jana, quiet as she seems to let that sink in.

Realization sends a chill down Jana’s spine as her eyes widen. “Oh, shit ….”

“Yeah ….” Rubbing her arm, Tali glances aside before letting out a deep breath. “Normally, I’d have an onboard system monitoring for any breaches or when it needs and maintenance work ….”

“But it can’t ….” Jana stands and grabs her friend by the shoulders, knowingly caging Tali into saying  _ exactly  _ what this means. “What’s happened?”

“A seal …. A seal has failed.”

Jana swallows hard and drops her hands, trying to go over the days past to try and remember any kind of sign Tali’s health was in danger. She wonders if she’s just imagining the slight stuffiness to Tali’s voice now or if it’s been there for a while now and Jana’s just been so absorbed in other things - in  _ herself _ \- that she hasn’t noticed.

“Jana …. Jana,” Tali says quickly, grabbing Jana’s hands to draw her back from the dark place of worry and fear. “You said you wouldn’t panic.”

“How can I  _ not _ ?” Jana takes a deep breath and squeezes Tali’s hands. She doesn’t  _ sound  _ too sick, but Jana has no idea what’s going on inside Tali’s body. She’s no doctor  _ or  _ quarian to draw conclusions on from experience. “Just … tell me why  _ you’re  _ not freaking out. How are you so calm when we don’t have any antibiotics or fresh seals?”

Tali’s shoulders visibly rise and fall with a deep breath as she glances away and seems to consider her words, letting go of Jana’s hands. “Remember how we found out we’ve  _ changed _ and can understand what everyone’s saying without the language being the same as our Standard?” She waits for Jana’s slow nod before starting to wave her hands as she speaks, her words slightly rushed. “Well, what if we’ve changed in  _ other  _ ways?”

“Like … physically?”

“ _ Biologically _ ,” Tali admins. “You know how everyone was eating the animals Garrus and the other turians hunted down on Palaven and everything seemed fine?” She pauses for another nod, but Jana still isn’t completely sure where Tali’s going with this line of thought. “What if there’s no levo and dextro here?” She wrings her hands. “What if I’m not so different from you now?”

While that provides an answer to the very real situation of running out of dextro rations for Tali, Jana isn’t sure how a difference in amino acids is going to keep Tali’s immune system strong against contamination. It isn’t like they’re on a clean, mostly sanitized ship in their universe where Tali is likely to just get a minor reaction.

“You’re still not explaining why you having an open seal isn’t such a big deal ….” Jana rubs her forehead to try and ease the tension there. “Just answer me this. How  _ long  _ have you known about this seal?”

“Well ….” Tali wrings her hands, obviously debating the answer. “More than a few days-”

“Tali-”

“No,” Tali snaps, slicing the air with her hand. “You  _ said  _ no panicking!” Crossing her arms, she waits for Jana to quiet down before sighing and continuing. “Yes, I haven’t been feeling too well, but … but things are different.” Moving her hands, she lays them on her chest. “I don’t  _ feel _ as sick as I normally would. I’ve had a rupture before - and it was bad - but this …. This barely feels like anything. A little bit of congestion, a slight headache, and a little bit of soreness in my throat.” She holds out her hands to her sides and Jana can almost swear Tali’s smiling, amazement rolling off her friend in waves. “What if my immune system is stronger here? What if …. What if I don’t  _ need  _ to find a way to fix my suit?” She reaches out for Jana’s hands and grips them in hers, a kind of desperation in the way she holds on tight. “Do you think I could …. Do you think I can be strong enough to see a day where I don’t need it?”

Jana’s mouth opens, but she closes it. She isn’t sure  _ what  _ this ultimately means for Tali’s health. With a broken seal, she practically  _ is  _ walking around with a hole in her suit. Would removing it completely present more of a chance of infection than the way Tali’s suit is now?

“I … don’t know,” she openly admits but squeezes Tali’s hands to keep her friend’s spirits up. “Maybe …. I mean, you’re open to the world without that seal, so maybe you just need to introduce yourself slowly? If you didn’t react the same way, not as badly, then maybe you  _ are  _ different.” She looks at their hands and smiles, wanting to hope. “Maybe we can learn more from the quarians of this world. If you really are different, then you must be like them. And if  _ they _ don’t need protection, then maybe  _ you  _ don’t.” She tugs Tali’s hands when she feels her excitement through their grasped hands and gives her friend a stern look. “But don’t rush it. We start with getting over this first …. Then we weed in food to see if you can eat it.  _ Then _ we’ll see about talking to some quarians.”

Tali nods, the gesture so adamant that her hood even flutters some. “Maybe Jon would be able to tell me some things ….  _ If  _ it’s okay, that is.”

Happy that her friend knows not to push too much for information when it’s so painfully obvious that Jon is much like Jana in the loss of a loved one, Jana smiles and nods. Tali was never one to not know how to avoid approaching sensitive topics, so Jana isn’t worried that Tali will harm the relationship that’s slowly budding between her and Jon by bringing up  _ his  _ Tali.


	16. Brooch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dictionary of terms**
> 
> _Skuggagrav_ \- Shadowy grave; the last holdout of the Prothean Empire

The savory aroma of whatever it is a group of the turians aboard are making seems to dance through the Mess and expansive Crew Deck. Even without knowing  _ what  _ kind of creature it is, Jana’s already beginning to feel herself craving the taste of the many spices they’ve been using, to bite through the crispy skin, and let the rich juices of its meat fill her mouth. 

However - like some sort of delayed reaction - her body starts to catch up with her senses, her weak stomach making itself known once again to remind her that she’s still at sea - and a rough one at that. Her mind starts to play tricks as it focuses on the  _ thing  _ sitting on the roasting pit.

Though she admits she didn’t know what they were roasting back during their journey across Menae, she never quite had the time or energy to examine their dinner closely. From what she remembers, it had already been butchered far from camp to keep predators from wandering into their camp at night in search of the smell of a fresh kill, so she was spared seeing what animals the island provided. It certainly didn’t  _ taste  _ bad when she was given her portion, though it wasn’t quite like any meat she could place from her own experience, so it was obviously foreign.

It’s funny to see now how easy it had been to get so used to food already being prepared into neatly packed slabs or cooked into - somewhat - familiar dishes now that she’s looking upon a very alien creature on the spit.

Built like a boar with a stout body that’s wider in the shoulders and leads into thinner hindquarters, the creatures’ similarities end there. Its hide looks rough and plated similar to a crocodile from Jana’s Earth, but its body ends in a broad, flat tail. Its legs have been bound up over its back and they look like a mix of flipper and hand, having three toes with sharp claws and a flat forearm seemingly evolved to act like paddles in the water. It’s head, however, belays its true nature as a predator like nearly every other animal in Palaven with its sharp teeth lined up in rows along the snout of its fish-like head.

With one, hard and painful lurch of her stomach, Jana realizes she probably won’t be having dinner tonight even if the meal had been a castle of her favorite chocolates and sweets. Her mind picking apart the appearance of the alien animal isn’t doing anything for her appetite either, so she quickly excuses herself from sitting amongst a group huddled around an older turian soldier boasting about a long scar across his neck and the grand story of his battle on some shore years ago that goes along with it. 

She figures she better disappear before the roast is done to save herself any awkward conversations wherein she tries to assure that it isn’t the food itself making her not want to eat, but the Normandy’s swaying. By the state of everyone, it seems like seasickness isn’t really that big a problem for people here and she’d much rather not have to explain that she goes against the norm in yet another way.

Not when it looks like she’ll be spending the majority of her days aboard the sailing Normandy and at odds with her stomach and its apparent preference for the days of old and their smooth flight through space.

Heading to her cabin, she sees Garrus coming from the cabin where Chloe bunks with her herbs and medicinal concoctions, a pouch in hand. He’s in a pair of dark blue, high waisted and tight pants with a loose shirt in an ivory color. He smiles when he catches her eyes over the shoulders of the loud crowds of crew and holds up a hand in greeting while speeding up his step.

“I hoped I’d find you before the  _ balen _ was done,” he says with a warm rumble, offering the leather pouch.

“Uh, yeah …. Thanks.” Not sure what she’s been given, she unties the drawstring and peeks inside, finding what looks like roots scrubbed clean of dirt. She frowns in confusion but decides she should probably address the elephant on deck instead of question his odd … gift. 

“Is that what it’s called?  _ ‘Balen _ ?’” She hums at his nod and chews her lip before giving him an apologetic, yet barely-there smile. “I don’t think I’m hungry …. Not that it doesn’t look, uh, delicious. Don’t get me wrong.” She shuffles the pouch from one hand to the other. “I’m still really sensitive to the turbulence of the water, so the thought of food right now is making my stomach churn.”

“Oh,” he says, subvocals sounding slightly dejected though he seems to be trying to keep them quiet. Neither says anything before Garrus makes a sharp chirp and smiles when she looks up to him, an eyebrow raised. “Jon spoke about how the rough seas make you ill, so I thought maybe Chloe could have something to help ease your stomach.” 

He rumbles and points to the bag, touching it a moment before he jerks his hand back and stutters. “I mean …. I know you could’ve gone to see her yourself …. It’s just that Chloe can be …. You know,” he stammers, rolling his hand as he keeps his eyes away from Jana. “But Chloe is a really skilled herbalist. She’s been a healer for the Normandy for a long time now and she knows her fair share of remedies.” 

Finally, his gaze meets Jana’s once more and he clears his throat for a moment. “Anyways, I got you some ginger and licorice root. Chloe says you can make tea from the ginger or chew the licorice root to help with the nausea …. But don’t worry. No one will take offense if you decide to skip dinner. Not many of the other races like  _ balen  _ and turian food can be an … acquired taste.”

Jana smiles softly and nods. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to try these out, but I know it’s not an immediate fix, so I think I’m going to leave everyone to their dinner while I go up top to look at the stars.”

He rumbles curiously but nods with a light flutter of his mandible. “Do you want company? I can wait to eat if you want.”

“No-no,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “No, I’m fine. I like the peace and quiet sometimes. You should stick around and enjoy. It smells delicious.”

He huffs softly and smiles a half-smile. “I’m happy to hear you say that. Turian food takes most some time to get used to. Too spicy for most,” he says in elaboration. 

She nods before motioning towards where his parents have arrived from the upper deck, Castis with his wife’s hand tucked into his elbow and his large bird on his shoulder.

“You should catch up with your parents. I’m sure you guys have a lot to talk about now that you’re all together and things have calmed down some,” she says with a smile, hoping Garrus would fall for the distraction.

Humming in consideration long enough for her to start to worry, he finally sighs and gives in, shoulders slumping slightly. “You’re probably right. I haven’t been in Cipritine for a few months. Too busy trying to convince the Council to help establish a unified army to fight the Reapers.” He smiles down at her and rubs his neck. “But, uh …. You should definitely see if you feel better with those herbs Chloe gave you.”

She smiles back, the corner of her lip quirking as she holds up the pouch. “It’s worth a try.”

Leaving him to turn to his family, Jana walks into hers and Tali’s shared cabin in search of a cloak to keep her warm and blanketed against the occasional spritz of salty water when the waves crash especially hard against the Normandy’s hull. It isn’t until she closes the door and walks to her cot to deposit her pouch of remedies to search her chest of clothes that she notices something’s different.

Laying in the center of her pillow is what looks like a mostly closed ring of twisted, shiny gold with two rubies on each end pulled apart just enough to allow a long, sharp bar to swivel through. From experience of her own universe, she can guess it’s a brooch, but she has no idea  _ who  _ dropped it off on her bed for her to obviously find first thing when she returned to her cabin.

She turns the brooch around in her hands, wondering who gave it to her and why. If it was just a clasp for her cloaks or whatnot, she’s sure Jon or whoever bought it would have just given it to her. This feels more like a gift from a secret admirer kind of thing and she frowns, concern washing over her as she lays a hand on her shirt, feeling the bump of her ring beneath her tunic. 

_ Someone must have just not known where to find me and didn’t have the time to look. Probably had the turians pick it up when we docked at Aephus and  _ **_they_ ** _ chose such a fancy one. _

Cloak wrapped around her shoulders, but hood down for the moment, Jana heads up to the top deck of the Normandy for some solitude, taking the brooch with her. In the quiet of a nearly bare deck save for the few crewmen maintaining its sails and navigation, she can think about everything from the little piece of jewelry, to the state of the Reaper invasion, to their possible next destination,  to the  _ people _ she’s meeting along the way.

_ Well, maybe about  _ **_one_ ** _ I’ve met in particular …. _

When she gets to the uppermost deck, she takes a deep breath of the salty air, closing her eyes a moment. She opens them and takes in the large deck lit only by the torches hung in various places and the meager crew at work. Joker is at the helm just like her own would be and EDI seems to be speaking as her fountain glows various colors like it did when Jana first saw EDI speak.

Jana walks to the railing of the deck, sure to pick a place well out of the way of anyone so she can have both the privacy and to make sure she doesn’t keep the crew from being able to do their jobs. She rests her forearms on the rail and looks out over the horizon, taking in the sight of pitch blackness only pierced by the light of the millions of stars. It’s hard to tell the sea from the sky off in the horizon where the waves seem calmer, the sight like looking into the endless void of space from her own Normandy’s observation decks’ windows.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been staring at the horizon, mindlessly worrying the brooch between her hands before she hears footsteps approaching. Glancing towards the sound, she sees Jon approaching with hands in his official Captain’s jacket as he gazes out at the same sight she’s been contemplating. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks as he moves beside her to lean against the railing, mirroring her as he smiles softly - though if a bit sad though Jana could be just seeing her own emotions reflected in the shadows of his features. “Makes you almost imagine that you could sail right off the world. I can see where people once thought that ….”

Jana hums and looks back out to the place where the sky seems to merge into the ocean. “Yeah, my people thought so a  _ long  _ time ago too.” She huffs in disbelief, giving herself the chance to think about the way her people advanced in technology and science since that time in history as if from an outsider’s viewpoint. “And then we advanced so far that we were  _ flying in space _ .”

He shakes his head, whispering, “Flying ships ….”  He seems to be imagining it for a while before he turns his attention to her continuously moving hands, getting a glimpse of the brooch. When he realizes that he wasn’t as subtle and he possibly intended in his examination, he smiles at her look. “Sorry. I was just surprised by it. It’s quite a piece of jewelry.”

“Yeah ….” She trails off and offers it to him to hold it himself. “I found it on my bed just now. No idea who it’s from or why.”

Quiet save for a low hum as he turns to hold it into the light of the nearest lantern, Jon scrutinizes the brooch intently before his expression softens and he runs his thumb over its twisted surface. “Do you like it? As a possible gift, I mean.”

She takes it back from him and frowns, taking a long look at it as she holds it in the palm of her hand. It’s nearly the size of her palm and  _ heavy _ , so she thinks it’s solid gold and surely expensive, but there’s something about the gesture that strikes her more than the brooch itself.

“I ….” Reaching for her ring with her other hand, she pulls the necklace from beneath her tunic and lays her hand on the ring as she closed her fingers of her other hand around the brooch. “I’m not sure …. I … went through some hardships.”

She doesn’t elaborate, but she can almost  _ swear  _ that he understands as he nods and takes a long, deep breath. Letting it out slowly, Jon reaches to her and lays a hand on her shoulder.

“Can I tell you a story? You don’t have to say anything back, but I’d like it if I could just … let you hear it,” he says, slowly letting his hand slip away as their eyes meet. “Please, Jana?”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, not sure what he’s going to say or if she’ll be ready to hear it, but nods.

Jon finally smiles in a way where Jana  _ knows  _ there’s a sadness there and he turns to the sight of stars and their mirrored counterparts. “When I was hunting down Saren, I my own Tali’Zorah. She’s different than your Tali, though, but in a more subtle way than you’d think. Tali is still  _ Tali _ with their strong will and need to help others, but where … my Tali had a quick wit and short temper, yours is calm, generous, and  _ lives  _ to be with friends, to have extended family maybe even more than the quarians she left in your realm?” He holds up a hand and says, “You don’t have to answer that. It’s hard to imagine because you didn’t know her, but trust me when I say that they are the same, but  _ different _ . You could look at both and say ‘yes, that’s Tali,’ but they aren’t exact copies, which - to me - makes them like two entirely different people ….”

He gives his head a soft shake, saying, “Anyway, I grew close to Tali. She had a father that was nearly impossible to please, but she seemed to like to hear about how I got along with my own mother. Maybe she liked to imagine what it was like to be proud of family, maybe not …. I’m still not sure about what it was she  _ really  _ wanted from those talks.

“It took some time to get her to open up to me even though I had already considered her a good friend and when I found out how strong she was, how much she fought through, I grew an admiration for her …. And then the Collectors attacked the Normandy and sent me and it into the … Void, I guess you could say ….”

Sighing, he takes a moment of silence as if he too still has a hard time imagining the hand fate dealt when the Collectors attacked his ship. Jana, too, has nightmares when she used to let herself drink too heavily, though she isn’t sure if it’s impact has been enhanced by the loss of her husband.

“When I was brought back,” he finally says. “Tali was the first one I tried to contact. As it turned out, she looked to me for direction after the attack and it led her back to her people. I guess because she thought it was what I would do or have wanted … and she was right. I was proud of her, even if it seemed maybe I might never renew that friendship with how the quarians are such a nomadic people and hard to find unless you  _ know  _ where to look.

“But eventually, I found her. We practically ran into each other when I was chasing down potential information of a Collector attack. She was there to rescue a quarian on his Pilgrimage there that had been overlooked by the Collectors while they were too focused on abducting humans.” He shoves one of his hands into his pocket. “She joined me once Veetor was safely with her people and … it was the happiest moment of my life. It felt like another piece of me came together ….”

Jana swallows thickly and gives a weak nod, whispering. “I know what you mean ….”

Jon didn’t push her further, though, simply laying his free hand on her shoulder once more before continuing his story.

“We grew even closer while we prepared my crew and ship for our attack on  _ Skuggagrav _ \- the Collectors’ homelands,” he explains. “So close that I was the only one she turned to when her father was in a dire situation. I regret how long it took us to sail because we lost the chance to save her father and even though they had a shaky relationship, the loss hit Tali hard.

“But it made us finally realize something,” he says softly, dipping his head down to look at the water as it splashes against the hull. He takes a moment to just breathe before letting out a deep breath and starting again. “We didn’t have much time to do all the things we wanted ….”

Pulling his hand from his jacket pocket, he reveals the purple sash Jana’s always seen somewhere on his person since the day she was tossed into this world. Finally, things began to make sense and she frowned, gripping her ring tightly.

“It was small, only in front of a few of her people and my crew, but we managed to have a ceremony where our linked hands were tied with this sash,” he says, running it over his hands. “I hadn’t alerted the Alliance because of my association with Cerberus at the time, but we were married in practice all the same. Nothing would come between us ….”

She can visibly see him swallow as he closed his eyes, hands fisting the purple ceremonial rope. 

“But it didn’t matter. Nothing we did to prepare mattered in the end ….” He sniffles ever so slightly, but his expression hardens as he then scowls at the horizon. “I lost my  _ soulmate _ to some stupid slip in our defenses. We had barely had enough time to get used to our tie before my world was shattered by a single seeker sting.”

It’s Jana’s turn to lay her hand on his shoulder as she musters the courage to speak in his silence. “I … lost my husband and bondmate on the Collector homeworld …. He was my  _ everything _ ….”

Jon takes a heavy breath, eyes closing as he lays his hand on hers. “I never meant to spy, but there was something in the way you always seem to grasp at your neck that felt so  _ familiar  _ ... because I do it too. It’s all I have of her and I apologize for my assuming it’s the same for you …. I just thought maybe -just  _ maybe _ \- there might be a way we could … pull each other out of this.”

He squeezes her hand and smiles to her, full of sadness, but also seemingly hopeful. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to mourn her this way …. With this isolation.” Turning fully to her, he urges her to do the same and he lays his hands on her shoulders. “We will always love them, but what if … we don’t guard our hearts? What if whatever gods we believe in want something else for us?” Swallowing, he gives her shoulders a squeeze before pulling away and looking down at his sash. “I don’t want to hurt this much anymore ….” He looks her in the eyes and asks, “Do you?”

_ No …. _


	17. Eden Prime

A chill wraps the Normandy in a tight grip as they head north towards a part of the ocean, called the Jagged Sea, that divides the Southern Terra and Northern Palaven borders, on their way to the Citadel.

Jana’s surprised by the cold crispness of the salty air because she doesn’t remember it being this cold on her first voyage on the Normandy traveling to the Citadel from the castle Areis on Mars. Perhaps she had been too distracted by the new world - and comfortable in her highly advanced undersuit and N-7 armor which she had worn almost the whole trip - to truly  _ feel  _ the temperature, but she does now, and she feels like maybe she isn’t all that cut out to be human in this realm if this is a glimpse of the region they call home. It may be the near-constant work everyone else seems to find for themselves or maybe they’ve just adapted over time, but they all seem so at ease with the cold and wear what looks like lightly padded clothing instead of the thick cloaks she needs even when she’s within the confines of the Normandy’s decks.

_ At least the turians aboard seem cold, but they’re doing a helluva job not showing it as much as I’d expect given all of my Garrus’ talk on Noveria. _

_ ‘Did I ever tell you turians don’t like the cold …..” _

So she keeps mostly to the lower decks, seeing if she can help Jameson, Liara, or other crew members in their daily tasks to distract from the cold. She can tell Tali feels it too because she’s taken to borrowing what few cloaks Jana doesn’t hog to bundle up in, but it seems like Tali’s still wondering curiosity of the antique boat has kept her plenty occupied from freezing into a quarian icicle. 

That, or Jon’s been helping her stay warm with cloaks of his own, of which Jana is sure he might have the finest of, being Captain of the ship and all. Jana doesn’t mind and she’s sure she’s been given some good gear, but damn if she doesn’t envy that Captain’s Cabin sometimes.

_ Maybe not, though ….. It  _ **_is_ ** _ out in the open on the top deck and right in the wind. Jon would need a damn good fire going to keep it warm. _

Sighing, Jana pulls up a layer of tight, light brown trousers that tie together at her waist. It, along with a dark red shirt will only be the first of a multitude of layers she plans to bundle up with before leaving the relative warmth of her and Tali’s small, shared cabin. The setup has kept her relatively warm for the last few days and there isn’t much at sea to do that’ll get them dirty, so she sees no reason messing with what works.

Just as she gets the shirt down over her head, there’s a knock at the door that she knows isn’t Tali because it’s not immediately followed by her friend slipping quickly into the room. Jana makes sure her shirt is situated correctly before approaching the door and opening it to see who’s come calling, not used to being actively looked for since she can’t provide much help to people because of her lack of knowledge of ... pretty much everything around here.

Liara stands in the small hall of the private cabins, dressed in her white robe she takes into combat with its light torso armor and arm guards. Only, she also wears a thick, reddish fur collar around her hood, a short cloak that reaches her lower back to match, and fur around the brims of her armored gloves. It looks like it’ll be just enough to keep warm outside of the vigorous activity of battle, but just barely if the drastically dropping temperature these past few days is any indication of what awaits top deck - or even whatever shore Jana can assume they’ve arrived at.

“Jon says we’re docking at Eden Prime,” Liara says before giving Jana a once over. “He wants us all prepared in armor, but be sure to dress for the cold. Eden Prime is one of the northernmost islands in Terra.”

“Eden Prime?” Jana furrows her brows in confusion. “So we missed the Jagged Sea?”

Liara nods. “We intercepted a raven saying Cerberus was attacking the island days ago, early enough for Jon to order Joker to change course. Jon’s afraid the King’s Fleet won’t be able to send a ship of its own to help them …. And the message said Cerberus is after something very important.”

“But not what?”

Liara shakes her head. “No. Which means it’s sensitive enough to want to keep secret from any possible interception of the messages. You should get ready for anything.”

Nodding, Jana steps back to close the door. “I’ll meet everyone down in the cargo hold. Does Tali know?”

“Yes, she’s aware. She’s borrowing some of my furs,” Liara says before taking her leave, off to retrieve her rose headed staff  and make her own final preparations, no doubt.

Jana doesn’t bother changing out of the clothes she’s already wearing, choosing to cover them instead with another layer before finally pulling on her gambeson and armor pieces. She can finally use the fur collar that was originally a part of the complete armor - but way too impractical in the heat of Palaven - and practically purrs at the warmth around her neck, snuggling her cheek into the softness for a moment before leaving to fetch her weapons.

In the cargo hold, Sybill and Bettrice are gearing up Jon and the others’ horses for the cold with thick blankets that even extend to cover their head and neck. Some of the turian soldiers have come down to join Jameson, Liara, and Tali in readying their weapons, cloaked in thick furs, hoods, and cloth masks over their mouths to keep in the warmth their metal armors are bound to be cooling. Many of them have a heavy cloak draped over their wings and Jana’s sure that the few horses left in the stalls won’t be able to carry the heavy weight of a turian in full armor, so she’s curious what their plans are for battle now that it seems that their biggest advantage has been taken away due to the cold now that they’ve bound them up against the weather.

Tali is waiting for Jana when she makes her way to the rack of their weapons and, just as Liara said,  she’s equipped herself with a fur collar and thick robe to combat the chill, both in a dark green that contrasts well with the purple in her suit . She hands Jana her sword first, waiting for her to strap the sheath around her hips before offering the large shield next.

Although she’s been practicing with it while the Normandy’s been at sea, the shield is still unwieldy for Jana’s smaller frame, but she feels like her efforts in strengthing her arms will pay off and allow her to move easier on the battlefield. She still wants to spend what little money she has in getting a smaller shield Jon has called a ‘buckler’ because, by its description, it sounds much more suited to her developing style of quick attacks and dodges over the more aggressive blocking and parrying Jon is more accustomed to.

“They said it’s snowing out there,” Tali says as Jana slips the shield around her shoulder. “I miss heated suits already,” she adds with a visible, if exaggerated, shiver.

Jana chuckles and jerks a chin towards the turians huddled together and seemingly talking to one another by the slight movement of their heads and hand gestures. She sees Garrus there, moving in this way to a soldier that must be a  high-ranking officer by the intricacy of his cobalt and silver cloak and elegant plume on top of his open-faced helmet.

Garrus is dressed in his black armor, but he’s added quite a bit of new articles of clothing in anticipation of their arrival at Eden Prime. Unlike the others, his wings are uncovered, but he has to be wearing enough fur and extra clothing to protect a whole other turian besides himself.

His hood is already pulled up, lined with fur that’s almost silver by the way it transitions from gray at the roots to an ivory color at its tips, and a mask covers his face from just below his eyes and over his nose, mouth, and mandibles. She isn’t sure what kind of animal the unique fur could have come from, but it’s thick enough that it can fill the inner curve of his cowl. It looks as if he’s wrapped another swathe of the fur around his broad shoulders, held together against his keel with a large, circular clasp with some kind of insignia etched into its surface that Jana can’t quite make out from where she stands. A cloak connects to the collar and drapes just enough down his back to settle between his wings and past the largest curve of his back, anything longer being more detrimental and cumbersome when he takes flight - which she can assume he will with his wings bare as they are. 

More of the fur is wrapped around his hips to keep his upper legs warm and it peeks from the tops of his boots which are now close-toed to keep Garrus’ feet from the freezing snow. Even his gloves now have their own fur additions and his fingers are now covered where he usually had them as bare as his toes, leaving Jana to wonder if it’ll affect his aim.

Something makes her think it won’t. She doubts someone with his skill would let gloves get in the way of a perfect shot.

_ He just wouldn’t be  _ **_Garrus_ ** _ , no matter what universe he’s in. I’d bet what little money I have on it. _

The entire ensemble gives his naturally lithe frame additional bunk she isn’t used to seeing him with, but she can only imagine how turians react to snow without advanced suits like in her reality. It gives her an entirely new appreciation for the turians of this world knowing they’re planning on going outside of the relative warmth of the Normandy to fight the cold on an island in - according to the context clues of Liara’s statement - the frigid northernmost regions of Alysim.

Jon is already geared up as he climbs down the stairs, pulling on his helmet and shifting his collar of dark sienna fur on his armored shoulders to lay closer to his neck. He gives them a nod as he approaches, waiting for Garrus to break away from the other turians and join them as Jon addresses the group.

“You’re wrapped up,” he says, looking over Tali and Jana before giving a nod. “Good. It’s snowing out there, but visibility is still good and there doesn’t seem to be any storms on the horizon. I won’t lie and say it won’t be cold, but we aren’t going to have to worry about the wind fighting us for every step.”

“Still cold as the Void,” Garrus says with a low hum. “You never take us anywhere nice. I hear Kahje has great weather for soaking in the sun for hours on end while listening to the sound of the ocean.”

Jon laughs. “I’ll be sure to remember that for a shore leave one day.”

“Count me in,” Jameson says before patting his prized bear cloak. “Might have to hold back on this though.” He pauses a moment before apparently changing his mind. “You know what? Nah …. I think I’ll take Terra over Kahje. Who needs sand and sun when you got a fire going in the hearth, a hearty stew cooking, and a tankard of spiced mead to keep you warm?”

_ God, that sounds amazing right about now …. Even though I don’t even know what ‘mead’ taste like. _

“Well, keep those thoughts in your head to keep you warm while we’re out there.” Jon motions to the turians standing in waiting near the opening for one of the gangplanks and glances over to Garrus. “Will your men be joining us? We should leave some to guard the ship and your parents ….”

Garrus nods with an agreeing rumble. “They’re staying. The Normandy is important and we know Cerberus. I don’t want any slipping past us and trying to take the ship. Especially not with my parents on board. If any of the Cerberus ships out there in the water come close, our soldiers can take to the skies and attack before the ships will even be able to lower their sails.”

“Good idea,” Jon agrees as his gaze moves to the now saddled and ready horses. “We’ll take it slow on the horses so you and your Praetorians can keep up, whether in the skies or on foot. I’m afraid that none of the other horses can carry the weight of a fully armored turian while trekking through the snow.”

Garrus huffs once before glancing at the other turians and giving a slight shake of his head. “Mierin and Sidonis are staying here with the others. They’ll be commanding their relative guard, she the Cabal unit and he the others. It’s the only way I could convince my father to remain with the Normandy. It’s like he’s got a vendetta against Cerberus with how adamant he was about getting into a fight with them.” He sighs and his following rumble sounds exasperated. “I think I owe it solely to you that he isn’t planning on joining us with his men as we take to the shore.”

Jon smiles wide and crosses his arms. “You’re father’s a smart man. He knows that protecting the Normandy from being overtaken while at the port is more logical than bombarding the island with a small army when we don’t even know how many Cerberus soldiers remain.” His expression shifts to something more serious and somber. “It’s been days since we intercepted that raven calling for help and as much as I hate to think it, there may not be many left on Eden Prime still holding them off.”

The group is quiet as Garrus rumbles in understanding and nods. Horses are handed over to their riders as the crew lowers the gangplank to allow the turians to take point, getting the first glimpse of the docks. Jon motions with his head to mount the horses and follow the initial group of disembarking turians when they don’t give the immediate sign of there being danger awaiting them.

Exiting the Normandy and hearing the lonely sound of hooves softly thudding on the wet planks of the docks, Jana can see that Jon may very well be right - that there may not be anyone left fighting against Cerberus. The port looks like it’s been ransacked with cargo smashed open and tossed aside to float in the frothy waters and ropes that had obviously been anchoring ships to the docks hanging limply against the beams as crew simply cut the ties for a quick escape. Only a few ships remain, some abandoned and covered in snow like ghost ships and other, much more menacing looking ships that are flying flags of blazing orange three-headed hounds against a diagonal black and white background.

“Cerberus,” Jameson says with a grimace and curses something before shifting and spitting into the nearby water.

Jon hums and draws up his horse’s reins. “Let’s get going …. There might be some holdouts.”

“Let the Goddess be with them,” Liara adds as she follows Jana, Jameson taking the rear.

Garrus walks beside the group, for now, their progression slow enough that he can keep up with them as they travel the more downtrodden path in the snow leading into a large city that could have been beautiful before Cerberus must have put it to the torch. The snow has since started to mask the charred remains of wooden buildings and their stone foundations, but there is still smoke in the air from fires still smoldering somewhere in the city.

Tali, on the back of Jon’s horse, makes a soft gasp and turns her head away from her left and Jana can’t help but look, regretting it just as she takes in the shapes just barely peeking from beneath the snow. Cerberus had been massacring people in the streets as they ran from burning houses, cutting down man and woman alike, adults and children. The barely covered bodies are a testament to that.

“Garrus,” Jon says, looking away from the pair of frozen bodies of a mother and her small child that haven’t been completely covered by the falling snow. “Take to the sky and see if you can see anything. Any survivors.”

Garrus doesn’t speak as he flicks his mandibles, spreads his wings, and kicks off the ground to let his large wings catch the air and propel him upwards. He leaves them, his shadow skating down the large road cutting through the city before them as he scouts ahead. Jon doesn’t need to speak or give the signal for the rest of them to follow, keeping their horses slow and quiet so they can be ready for any kind of noise from the dead city.

Jana can see some places that the fire hadn’t completely destroyed where people had cordoned off alleys between buildings, creating barricades where it looks like they made their last stands when they couldn’t outrun the attackers. There are buildings made mostly of brick and stone where it looks like people huddled close while a handful of guards or otherwise armored citizens tried to hold Cerberus off, but it seems like most of the city either perished in the streets trying to flee or - as it took Jana a bit of thinking to realize - attempting to seek refuge deeper into the city towards a triplet of towers.

When Garrus returns, he’s as quiet as a whisper and lands lightly on the stone of a large, but merely decorative wall around the remains of a larger sized home. He flicks his wings to rid them of any remaining flecks of snow and points towards the towers.

“There’s a good number of citizens and Eden guard holding the Duke’s castle and they need help,” he says quickly before lifting off his stone perch. “Cerberus has them against the wall.”

Jon reins up his horse in a half-turn towards the others. “Then we fight for them.” He pulls his sword from its sheath with a long, metallic swish of metal against the sharpening rods built into the leather scabbard. “Garrus, go to their aid.”

Garrus doesn’t wait for the others as he’s off with a strong flap of his wings, taking to the dreary skies once more. Jon gives them a quick once over before turning his horse towards the castle and giving it a harsh kick as he  points the tip of his golden sword forward. Jana and the others follow suit, urging their horses into a gallop as Jameson gives a wordless shout of anticipation.

The main road of Eden Prime is paved with mismatched cobblestone and it clacks beneath the horses’ metal shoes on their hooves as they gallop. The animals snort as they charge around the bend, the castle’s walls now visible in the distance where  soldiers clad in dark armor and orange cloaks  bash against the barred gates, archers and mages sending attacks at the defenders stationed on the walls used ranged weapons and attacks in retaliation.

Garrus attacks from the skies, catching some of Cerberus’ attention, but Jana can see that the gates have taken a beating. It seems like the Normandy made it to the island just in time because the large, wooden gates don’t look like they could’ve taken much more damage from Cerberus’ battering ram.

Cerberus soldiers left useless at the moment without a foe to fight with their swords, shields, and other close combat weapons leave the battering ram to its work and divert their attention to Jon’s group that’s rapidly approaching. Jana pulls her sword from its sheath at her side and  slashes down at the snarling hound helmet of an axe-wielding soldier and manages to catch him across the chest and head, knocking him down. She pulls  _ Alfi _ around and charges through the throng of soldiers again for another attack, thrusting her blade into the back of a soldier Liara’s stunned with her magic.

Distancing herself from the battle after trampling a robed hound in her way, Jana pulls  _ Alfi  _ into a stop and dismounts. She knows someone’s protecting her from any attack as she grabs her shield from its place against her saddle, but she isn’t sure who. By the whistles in the air, she’s sure it’s either Tali or Garrus with their bows, but she doesn’t have time to seek them out and give thanks as she rushes back to the battle.

Eden Prime’s defenders have joined in the fight, city guard and adequately armed citizens who must have at least some knowledge in fighting flooding out of the slightly opened, shattered gates to protect the others still taking refuge in the castle’s walls. It’s easy for Jana to recognize  Cerberus forces even in such a hectic battle with their snarling dog helms on every one of their men no matter if they’re wearing the heavy armor of soldiers, lighter suits for archers, or robes of mages.

In the midst of battle against a helmeted soldier wielding a large greatsword similar to the one Ashlin had fought with, Jana feels the force of a projectile hitting her in the shoulder of her sword arm, knocking her back a step. She manages to lift her shield up as she spins away from a heavy blow and doesn’t have time to check her shoulder before she uses her shield to push forward. She breaks into her attacker’s space, taking advantage of their heavy weapon’s recovery time before she uses her momentum to shove her shield aside, knocking them off-kilter so she can go in for a crippling blow. Forgoing their massive sword, she aims for their knee and slashes, putting all her effort into it to compensate for the stiffness her shoulder injury is causing.

The blade slices across the side of the Cerberus soldier’s knee guard before sinking into the flesh of the back of the joint and they collapse, groaning at the pain as scarlet flows down their leg. Shouting, Jana bashes them with her shield to knock them down while they’re crippled before giving the final blow to end their misery. It gives her an opening to check her person and take a look at her shoulder’s situation.

An arrow juts from the armor of her shoulder guard right where the plates overlap. She doesn’t feel the intense pain of the arrowhead nor does she see blood, telling her she’s not injured, so she grabs the arrow and tugs hard to dislodge it before tossing it aside.

The sharp whistle of an arrow flies by her head, followed by a very close grunt and clatter of someone stumbling. She quickly spins and instinctively sets her shield in front of her to guard against attack, but the Cerberus soldier before her already sports two arrows in his chest before another flies over her and into the snarling mouth of his helm to finally finish him off.

She lowers her shield and looks back to find the archer and smiles softly as Garrus lands at her side, nocking an arrow but lowering his bow to get close to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says with a nod, patting her shoulder plates. “I’m good.”

He looks her over before giving her his own nod. “Good.”

She prides herself on not flinching at the sound of his arrow whistling so close to her ear as it fires at someone behind her and she glances back, assuming whoever it had been has fallen before she can get a look at them. Even seeing his lightning-fast movement of aiming and letting it go in one breath as well as her complete confidence in his skill, the sound still gets a reaction out of her instincts much like firing guns did when she was much younger and in her first few years with the Alliance.

“They’re withdrawing,” Tali shouts as she points as some fleeing Cerberus running down the path in hopes of disappearing in the destroyed city.

“Not if we can help it!” A group of Eden Prime’s survivors takes off after them and Jon holds out his hand to keep Jameson from following.

“There’s only a handful left .... and they’re already wounded,” he says as he turns to the castle. “We need a better idea of what’s happening on the rest of the island.”

“You there!” a man from the castle’s defense walls calls down, a woman beside him putting Jon in her bow’s sights. “Name yourselves in the name of the Duke!”

“Sod the Duke. You don't see him still here fighting in the shit,” a gruff woman says as she kicks a Cerberus soldier that’s fallen over another, checking to see if they’re dead.  She wears a heavy set of armor with a green and blue cloak and has a bandage wrapped around her forehead and stretching to cover a wound on her left cheek while leaving her eye uncovered.  “You fought with us,” she says as she approaches Jon, lowering her mace but still keeping it ready for a quick attack. “And you aren’t wearing Cerberus colors, so I’ll ask this. Are you friend or foe?”

“Friend,” Jon says, sheathing his sword as a sign of good faith and Jana follows suit, seeing Tali and Liara do the same while Garrus and Jameson visibly lower and hold their weapons in a manner that reads more casual than the woman’s. “I’m Templar Shepard, Captain in the King’s Fleet.”

The woman visibly blinks and turns her head slightly to the side, as if moving to get a different look at Jon. “Templar Jon Shepard? Of the Normandy?” She lets out a long breath when he nods and finally sheaths her mace on a metal loop on a belt slung around her armored hips. “I’m …. I guess you could say I’m Captain of the guard now with the old Captain dead …. Name’s Kessler, Luisa Kessler. I would say you arrived just in time, but,” she starts with a sneer as she motions the battered gates and too few guards and refugees within the castle’s walls, “we can all see that’d be a lie.”

Jon frowns and dips his head. “And for that, I am truly sorry. We sailed as fast as we could.” Lifting his head, he asks, “Were those the only Cerberus forces left? The ships at the docks seem more suited to a small army.” 

The Captain shifts their mouth as if she’s running her tongue along her teeth before she spits on the lightly snow-covered ground beside some fallen Cerberus bodies. “They’ve moved on from here,” she says as she glances back at her survivors. “It doesn’t seem like they came here just for us …. I reckon they’ve been after the Academy and what those archeologists found in the Prothean tomb.”

“Prothean tombs?” Liara’s eyes widen as she looks between Jon and Captain Kessler. “I hadn’t heard of any findings or Prothean dig sites here on Eden Prime.”

“Probably because they wanted to keep it a secret,” Kessler says as cocks a hip, putting a fist to her hip, “since we all know how the last time turned out.”

Liara frowns and Jana can see the muscles at her jaw tense. “That wasn’t the Council’s fault. Saren-”

“Please,” Jon interrupts, holding out a placating hand to Liara and she relaxes slightly, though not without giving the Captain another slight glare. “We’re more interested in where Cerberus has gone.”

“I apologize,” Liara says softly and he nods in understanding but doesn’t speak further, giving Captain Kessler a chance to continue explaining the situation.

“Grissom Academy is to the northwest of here. The scholars took whatever they found from the tomb there to study it, but also keep it secret. I only know about it from rumors going around among the higher ranked in the guard here. ‘Be careful for any Council ships poking their noses around here,’ my Captain said and I figured the rest out for myself.” She clears her throat and spits again, the foamy saliva tinged with some streaks of fresh, bright blood. “Figure Cerberus will be after the kids at the Academy if not that.”

“Perhaps both.” Garrus hums and looks to Jon. “We should follow in their tracks, send the Normandy to circle the island and wait for us. We can take any survivors aboard, but maybe even manage to intercept Cerberus as they’re trying to take whatever your archeologists found.”

Jon nods and waves the others towards their horses waiting just out of the reaches of the previous battle. “We’ll ride fast, try to catch up. Captain,” he says, turning to her as Jameson, Tali, and Liara rush over to collect the horses. “Do you have a spare raven or messenger bird?”

“No,” the burly woman says, but jerks her chin towards the castle. “We sent everything we had over the days to call for  _ anyone  _ who could help. I can send a man to your ship, though. With Cerberus run off thanks to you, I feel it’s safe enough for someone to slip through to the docks without being attacked.”

Jon hums and Jana clears her throat in request to speak. When he looks to her and nods she looks at the Captain with her idea.

“Send someone who isn’t bogged down by armor,” Jana explains. “Maybe even someone with little to no armor. They’d be faster and, if there  _ are  _ any Cerberus stragglers, then they can easily outrun them or find a place to hide without armor taking up too much space or slowing them down. Hell, they’ll be quieter too so Cerberus might not even know they’re sneaking back on the back streets.”

The Captain seems to think it over before nodding. “I just might take that advice,” she says before completely turning to her men spread among the bodies, gathering weapons, shields, and spare parts of armor before dragging the bodies out of the direct way of the gates. “You get going to the Academy - if you truly think you’d be doing any good. I still don’t think we’re outta the woods yet, so I’m going to gather my men and find a way to rebuild the gates quickly before we see any more Cerberus coming to finish us off.” She waves Jon off when he opens his mouth to speak. “I’ll get a man to your ship. Don’t worry, Templar.”

She starts to step over bodies towards the castle before stopping as Jon and the others are mounting their horses. “Oh,” she says, turning back to them, “Good luck. Maybe there’ll still be some kids holed up you can save. I’m not normally so optimistic, but maybe, this time, I’ll be wrong.”

“Have faith,” Jon says, drawing his horse to start walking around the bodies and through the path the city guard has started to make. “If we don’t have faith, then we only have the horrors of the world.”

With a final once over to check that the others are ready - only Garrus left to follow by air because of his lack of mount - Jon kicks his horse into a run. He keeps from pushing them into a full gallop to save the horses’ energy for the extent of the distance they need to cover, but they’re at a speed that’s certainly faster than a walk or trot.

_ Hopefully, the horses have enough strength to keep at this run and make the distance. Jon must know their limits and the distance to the Academy, but it’d cause a lot more problems if we can’t get there in time because we’ve burned out the poor animals.  _

_ Let’s just hope you know what you’re doing, Jon. _

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has its very own Lore Codex. It's a WIP and will be added to as I write the fic, but feel free to check it out [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jeoqz4wpT6AGcJ6WANxF3AbYtkJ8xkg4-uOe6spCLts/edit?usp=sharing).


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